Every rose has its thorn
by Annamia
Summary: The sequel to Like a spring Flower. Draco comes to save Harry from the Dursleys, and so begins the second chapter of their romance. H/D slash. Hope you like it!
1. Saving Harry

Saving Harry

He had always hated his birthday. Actually, he'd always hated most holidays. It was always hard for him to remember that he was supposed to actually _enjoy_ days off from school, hard to recall that most boys waited for the holidays in eager anticipation. For him, they were times of pain and angst, days when he would wince every time his relatives failed to make a fuss over him or even look at him twice. He supposed that it was silly to want them to, silly to secretly hope for it year after year, but he couldn't help it. Something in him, something that was at the core of who he was, wouldn't let him give up.

There was a tap on his window, and he turned, expecting to see Hedwig with a letter or a package from his friends. He didn't even dare think that it was from Draco. He hadn't received a single thing from his boyfriend all summer, and he was well into being frantic with worry. The only thing that stopped him from grabbing his Firebolt and flying off to Draco's house was the persistent thought, 'what if he doesn't want me anymore?' The thought send spasms of pain through him every time he voiced it to himself, but he was too honest with himself to deny that it was a possibility.

All his doubts dried in his throat as he peered out the window. It wasn't Hedwig after all. His eyes widened. "D… Draco?" he spluttered, barely able to believe that it was real.

Draco grinned. "Open the window," he mouthed.

Harry flew towards the window and yanked it open. Draco zoomed in and landed gracefully, hardly making any noise as he slipped off his broom. "What are you doing here?" Harry demanded, exhilaration making it hard for him to keep his voice down.

"Rescuing you," Draco answered. "You didn't think I'd let you rot away in this house all summer, did you?"

"How did you get here?" Harry demanded.

Draco gestured impatiently at his Nimbus.

"Oh, right."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I can see that you are desperately in need of rescuing," he said. "It'll take me all summer just to train you to use your eyes again."

Harry snorted. "Have fun. Just where are you suggesting we go?"

"Where else? My house."

Harry's eyes widened. "Your house? But what about…" he trailed off as he caught the look in Draco's storm-cloud gray eyes. "Oh, right." The silence turned uncomfortable.

"I'll get my broom," Harry muttered, looking away.

Draco nodded.

"Stay here."

"Where else is there to go? You don't think I would go down for some scintillating conversation with your relatives, do you?"

"No."

"Come back soon."

Harry grinned. "You make it sound like I'm leaving for a long journey."

Draco grinned back, lightening the mood in the room considerably. "You never know," he said. "After all, they might kidnap you to stop you from leaving."

Harry snorted. "That'll be the day," he muttered.

"How long are we going to stand here talking?" Draco demanded, glancing out the window. "I'm technically breaking the law just being here, you know."

Harry winced. "Be right back," he promised, walking towards the door and yanking it open. He crept down the stairs, hoping to retrieve his broom from the cupboard beneath the stairs without being noticed. Unfortunately for him, he'd forgotten how much the floorboards in there creaked. The moment he stepped inside, they let out a series of cacophonous groans. He winced and rummaged around hurriedly, grabbing both his broom and his wand, which he stuck in his back pocket, regardless of what Moody said on the subject of exploding buttocks. He made a dash for the door and almost made it. Just as he was about to barrel out of the closet and back up to his room, the massive figure of his cousin lumbered into view, blocking his escape route.

"What are you doing?" Dudley demanded, raising a ham-like fist menacingly.

Harry growled. "Move," he snarled, acutely aware of Draco up in his room.

Dudley's piggy eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You're trying to do _it_, aren't you?"

Harry laughed scornfully. "I don't need to pretend," he snapped. "I could do magic anytime I chose."

Dudley flinched at the sound of the forbidden word. "You're not allowed," he complained, though he sounded much less sure than he had before.

Harry glanced at his watch, eyed the stairs, and made up his mind. Quick as lightning, he whipped his wand out of his pocked and leveled it at Dudley. "Get out of the way," he said steadily, his voice icy cold.

Dudley backed away, never taking his eyes off Harry's wand. The moment the door was clear, Harry darted out, clutching his Firebolt in one hand and keeping the other trained on Dudley. "Now, go back and watch TV," he ordered.

"Wh… what are you going to do?" Dudley blubbered.

"I'm going out," Harry said. "And I don't know when I'll be back. Tell your mum she can burn my furniture and donate my clothes to the dumpster if she wants."

"You're still in her custody," Dudley reminded him, clearly trying to be brave.

Harry laughed scornfully. "Didn't you know? Wizards come of age at seventeen. I'm an adult now."

Dudley had winced as Harry said 'wizard,' and now his expression turned petulant. "It's not _fair_!" he whined. "Why do _you_get to be an adult before I do?"

Harry looked at him in disgust. "Grow _up_, Dudley," he ordered. "You'll never be anything unless you accept that you're not King of the world."

Dudley opened his mouth to answer, but Harry moved past him. "See you. Maybe." He dashed up the stairs and into his room, slamming the door behind him.

Draco looked at him oddly. "Took you long enough," he commented, tossing aside a battered copy of _Quidditch through the Ages_ that Harry had rescued from the closet several weeks before.

Harry grinned, still breathing heavily. "I had an… exchange with my cousin," he explained.

Draco's eyebrow raised. "Really?" he asked. "And just what, pray tell, did you say to him?"

"I told him that I was leaving," Harry said matter of factly.

Draco frowned. "Did you tell him where you were going?"

Harry shrugged. "Does it matter? I have enough money to buy myself a place."

Draco's expression was careful as he said, "Is that what you want?"

Harry frowned. This elaborate caution was unlike the Draco he'd come to know last year. "Dray?" he asked.

Draco shook his head. "Never mind." He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and made a visible effort to shake off whatever it was. When he opened his eyes again, they were alight with anticipation. "So, shall we get going?"

Harry frowned slightly at the change in his boyfriend's mood, but shrugged. "I don't think there's anything here I need." He looked around swiftly, but there was nothing he couldn't live without. Hedwig's cage sat open and empty, making him bite his lip in thought.

"She'll find you," Draco told him, seeing the direction of his gaze. "And if she doesn't, you can always swing by and fetch her later."

"True," Harry agreed slowly. He turned around in a slow circle, taking in the room that had been his for the last few years of his life. All in all, he wouldn't be devastated to leave it.

"Do you have your wand?" Draco asked.

Harry realized that he'd put it back in his pocket, and he brought it out now. A sudden thought came to him, and he frowned.

"What is it?" Draco wanted to know.

"School stuff," Harry answered. Then he sighed. "Guess I'll have to come back after all."

"You can get it now," Draco told him. "I can wait."

Harry shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I'll come back later."

"You're sure?"

Harry nodded. "Are we going to go or not?" he asked.

Draco smiled. "Yes," he said. He glanced at Harry's Firebolt, a slight expression of longing on his beautiful face. "You'll have to let me try that sometime, you know."

Harry grinned. "Any time," he promised. "Shall we?"

Draco gestured elegantly towards the window. "You first," he said. Harry mounted his broom and kicked off, soaring adroitly through the window and out into the open air. He laughed with sheer delight as Draco joined him, his grin widening as the two flew upwards into the cloudless sky, not caring about how many muggles could see them, not even caring about Draco's strange shift of moods earlier. He was free, he was flying, and he was with Draco. There was nothing more he wanted.

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_Author's note: well, here we go again. I'm hoping that this storyline will work and that I won't have to start over. I've decided that I'll stick with the format I used for Spring Flower, so the next chapter will be the same conversation from Draco's POV. I hope you like it!_

_ Disclaimer: need I add that this is all JK Rowling's? _


	2. Rescue mission

Rescue mission

He wasn't sure what had made him do it. Maybe it was the thrill of finally having the house to himself, or maybe it was just the deep longing he felt whenever he thought of last year. Of one person in particular. He groaned, clenching his fists and pacing up and down his enormous bedroom, trying to get the image of wind ruffled black hair and piercing green eyes out of his head. He couldn't do anything until his father left, and that was that. He didn't even dare _write_ for fear the owls would be intercepted.

He glanced at the calendar, noting that it was Harry's birthday. He sighed, resuming his pacing. What was he doing here? He should be with the boy he loved, not cooped up in this house that was really nothing more than a prison. His eyes strayed back to the calendar, rereading the small black 31. He set his jaw, determined to bear it. It was better this way.

The sound of knocking on the door brought him back to Earth. He opened it with a flick of his wand, noting with astonishment that his father stood on the threshold. Draco frowned, wondering what was up. His father eyed him critically, then shook his head. "I told him you were not ready," he muttered.

Draco frowned, struggling to keep the horror he felt from showing on his face. "Excuse me father?"

Lucius Malfy looked at his son in impatience. "The Dark Lord wishes to make you one of his inner circle," he said. "But clearly you are not ready yet. I will inform him of this, and, if he does not like it, you will just have to get ready soon. The Dark Lord is not a man who likes to be kept waiting."

Draco gulped. He nodded, hoping his father would leave. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep his mask in place. Thankfully, Lucius glanced around the room once, then said, "Your mother and I are leaving. You are not to leave the property until we return. We should be gone for several days at least."

Draco nodded. "Yes father," he said.

Lucius swept out, slamming the door shut behind him. Draco waited until he was sure his father was no longer listening to drop onto his bed and stare listlessly at the wall. Voldemort wanted him to be a Death Eater. He would become a Death Eater. No one had ever dared deny Voldemort anything.

Suddenly, his head snapped up. He looked again at the calendar. One person had managed to defy Voldemort, not once, but time and time again. If anyone could help him, Harry would. Besides, it _was_ his love's birthday, and a month cooped up with his muggle relatives were sure to be more than enough. A grin spread over Draco's face as he planned. His father's order didn't bother him much. Lucius always said that, and he never checked to make sure his orders were followed. Draco had snuck out before, and he was sure he would do it again.

He leapt to his feet, determination flooding him. Making sure he kept quiet, just in case, he left his room and made his way down to the front door. To his relief, no house elves stopped him along the way. He supposed they noticed him, but none of them confronted him directly.

He slipped out the door and took off at a run towards the broom-shed a rapidly fired unlocking spell sent the door flying open, and he grabbed his Nimbus 2001 from where it rested. Clutching it tightly, he shut the door again and made his way to the edge of his father's property. With a last glance at the mansion looming behind him, he mounted the broom and took off, shooting high into the air and flying back over the broom-shed and away into the horizon.

He arrived at Harry's house an hour later. He circled, ignoring all the rules against doing such things in a muggle district, until he found a window to peer into. Harry was there, sitting on his bed, looking dejected. Draco felt anger surge through him as he saw what living here had done to Harry. He wanted to kill the muggles, wanted to curse them and take Harry away to somewhere where he could be himself.

Then he shook his head, banishing the romantic and unproductive images from his head. He swooped down and tapped on the window, doing his best to compose himself. Harry quite clearly had enough on his mind already. He didn't need to deal with Draco's problems too.

Harry's eyes widened as he moved to the window. "D… Draco?" Draco couldn't hear him, but his astonishment was plain.

Draco grinned. "Open the window," he mouthed.

Harry pulled the window open, ducking quickly out of the way. Draco flew in through the window and landed softly, doing his best not to make any noise. He dismounted and propped his broom against the wall. "What are you doing here?" Harry's voice was soft, but Draco could see the excitement in his eyes. He couldn't help grinning.

"Rescuing you. You didn't think I'd let you rot away in this house all summer, did you?"

"How did you get here?"

Draco gestured impatiently at his Nimbus. Wasn't it obvious?

"Oh, right." Harry's voice was sheepish as he came to the same conclusion.

Draco rolled his eyes, appalled at what half a summer in solitary confinement had done to Harry's powers of observation. "I can see that you are desperately in need of rescuing," he said. "It'll take me all summer just to train you to use your eyes again."

Harry snorted. "Have fun. Just where are you suggesting we go?"

Draco frowned. He would have thought that one was obvious too. "Where else? My house."

Harry's eyes widened. "Your house? But what about…" Draco glared at him, willing him not to say it. "Oh, right," Harry mumbled. They stood in silence for a long moment, Draco becoming more uncomfortable by the minute. Had it been a mistake to come here? Did Harry not want to go with him?

"I'll get my broom," Harry muttered, looking away.

Draco nodded, still lost in his grim thoughts.

"Stay here."

"Where else is there to go? You don't think I would go down for some scintillating conversation with your relatives, do you?" His voice was slightly sharper than he'd intended it to be, and Harry noticed.

"No." Harry's own voice wasn't as gentle as it could have been, and the tone made Draco feel instantly contrite. The look in his gray eyes softened.

"Come back soon."

Harry grinned. "You make it sound like I'm leaving for a long journey."

Draco grinned back with considerable effort, willing the atmosphere in the room to lighten. "You never know," he said. "After all, they might kidnap you to stop you from leaving."

Harry snorted. "That'll be the day," he muttered darkly, shooting a glare at the door.

"How long are we going to stand here talking?" Draco demanded. He hated that look it Harry's eyes, and he hoped that the sooner they left the sooner it would leave as well. The hard, blank expression reminded Draco too much of himself, and he didn't want that for Harry. "I'm technically breaking the law just being here, you know." 'Not to mention disobeying my father,' he added silently, though it didn't matter.

Harry winced at that. "Be right back," he promised, walking towards the door and yanking it open. He vanished through the door, not closing it all the way, leaving Draco alone in the strange room. It was messier than Draco's room at home, and the clothes and books strewn across the floor were battered and torn. Draco winced at the sight of a book lying upended on the floor, its pages crumpled and bent. He stooped to retrieve it, smoothing the pages and glancing at the title out of habit. He snorted. Of course Harry would only have books about Quidditch.

He began to leaf through it, glancing at the illustrations and skimming the text, not really paying much attention to any of it. He couldn't wait to get out of this house, couldn't wait until it was just him and Harry alone again. They couldn't talk properly here, and Draco needed to talk.

The door burst open and Harry stalked in, glowering. He slammed the door closed behind him, his expression not changing. Draco frowned, wondering what was wrong.

"Took you long enough," he commented, setting the book aside and scrutinizing Harry's face.

The glower slowly turned into a grin as Harry caught his breath. "I had an… exchange with my cousin," he explained.

Draco's eyebrow rose. "Really?" he asked. "And just what, pray tell, did you say to him?"

"I told him that I was leaving," Harry said matter of factly.

Draco frowned. "Did you tell him where you were going?" He didn't _think_ the muggles would try to find Harry at his house, but you never knew who they would tell. Malfoy Manor was the last place anyone would go if they were looking for Harry Potter, but if one of his relatives let it slip… Thankfully, Harry was shaking his head.

"Does it matter? I have enough money to buy myself a place." Draco froze at that. He stared at Harry, trying to make sense of the words. His mind went round and round in circles, always coming to the same conclusion: Harry didn't want to go to his house. He didn't want to stay with Draco. The knowledge cut deeply, far more deeply than anything else could.

"Is that what you want?" Draco asked carefully, fighting to keep the devastation from slipping into his voice. He would _not_ make Harry stay with him out of pity! If Harry wanted to go his own way, he would, and that was that. He shouldn't have to take Draco into consideration if he was thinking about things like that. It didn't matter to _Draco_ where Harry lived, so long as they could still see each other. He carefully shied away from the next logical conclusion, focusing on Harry's words instead.

"Dray?" Draco relaxed. It couldn't be too bad, not if Harry was using a nickname instead of Draco's full name. Maybe it was all just a miscommunication that could be remedied without pain.

He shook his head. "Never mind." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, banishing the blackness of pain back where it belonged. He was with Harry right now. That was all that really mattered. "So, shall we get going?"

Harry frowned slightly, but shrugged. "I don't think there's anything here I need." He glanced around the room. Draco looked around too, not seeing anything that _he_ would want to keep. Harry's gaze lingered on the empty owl cage, and he bit his lip in thought.

"She'll find you," Draco assured him. "And if she doesn't, you can always swing by and fetch her later."

"True," Harry agreed slowly. He looked around one last time, looking at everything with a cold eye. Draco could sense how relieved he was to be leaving.

"Do you have your wand?"

Harry nodded and pulled it out of his pocket to show Draco. He frowned suddenly, his forehead crinkling together.

"What is it?" Draco wanted to know.

"School stuff," Harry answered. Then he sighed. "Guess I'll have to come back after all."

"You can get it now," Draco told him. "I can wait." He didn't want to, but, for Harry's sake, he would spend as much time as he had to in this house.

Harry shook his head, obviously as eager to leave as Draco was. "Don't worry about it. I'll come back later."

"You're sure?"

Harry nodded. "Are we going to go or not?" he asked.

Draco smiled. "Yes," he said. He glanced at the broom in Harry's hand, and then back at his own Nimbus. He scowled slightly, remembering how his father had refused to buy him a Firebolt of his own. "You'll have to let me try that sometime, you know."

Harry grinned. "Any time," he promised. "Shall we?"

Draco gestured towards the open window. "You first," he said. Harry mounted his broom and kicked off, flying adroitly through the narrow opening and spiraling up into the cloudless sky. Draco followed him, leaving the window open behind him and climbed to join Harry. The two flew higher and higher, grinning with sheer delight as the wind blew through their hair and made their clothes stream out behind them. For the first time all day, Draco truly relaxed. He was high in the air, flying next to the love of his life. Voldmort seemed inconsequential when viewed from this height. Nothing mattered but that he was with Harry again at last. He reached out a hand and Harry grasped it, and the two flew on, together once again.


	3. Serious matters

_Not mine, as always. This is a bit of an odd conversation, and writing it from Draco's POV will be fun. That chapter isn't done yet, but this one is, and so I decided to post it anyway. Enjoy!

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_

Serious matters 

Harry sat in Draco's over elaborate bedroom, trying not to ask himself just what he was doing here. It was obvious what he was doing here: he was keeping Draco company. The question, of course, was how long would they stay here? It had already been two days since Draco came to rescue him from the Dursleys, and those days had been spent in a kind of unspoken tension. Harry sensed that there was something Draco desperately wanted to say, but the blond never actually said it, and it was slowly driving a wedge between the two of them. Harry, remembering the agonizing months last year when he and Draco weren't speaking, was determined not to let it get that far.

He'd tried many times to get Draco to talk, but they were all unsuccessful. Draco was an expert at avoiding conversational paths he didn't like, and Harry didn't even stand a chance. But now, with Lucius Malfoy's return coming closer and closer, Harry was determined to ferret out the truth. Surely it wasn't anything _too_ horrible! Or, rather, surely it wasn't anything that would tear them apart again. He hoped that Draco was over leaving him – or trying to leave him – to protect him. They'd settled that last term, and Harry was having no more of it. He was staying with Draco until one of them fell out of love, and that was final.

The problem, of course, would be convincing Draco of that. Harry was determined that today would be the day he finally succeeded in that, and he told himself over and over again that it was best of all of them. Unfortunately, saying that was different from actually doing it. Harry needed a strategy to bring Draco out of his shell, and, so far, he had come up blank. It was getting beyond frustrating.

The door opened, and Draco himself came in. He paused as he saw Harry's expression. Hesitantly, he asked, "Harry?"

'Now or never,' Harry told himself, taking a deep breath. Out loud, he announced, "Draco, we need to talk."

A look of sheer and utter panic spread across Draco's face, one that Harry didn't quite understand. "About what?"

"About us."

Draco took a deep breath, obviously steeling himself. He sat down in a chair, crossed his legs, and looked at Harry, not meeting his eyes. The silence stretched on as Harry tried to think of how to start this. Finally, he said, "This isn't working anymore."

Draco didn't answer. He didn't look at Harry either, dropping his head and biting his lip.

"You need to tell me the truth," Harry continued, unwilling to take the time to wonder at Draco's odd behavior. He knew he had to say it all now or he would lose his courage. "No more secrets, Dray. What are you hiding from me?"

Draco finally met his eyes, and Harry was amazed to see that there were tears in the silver orbs. "I… I'm sorry."

Harry moved off the bed and over to Draco's chair, unsettled by the expression in his love's eyes. Was it that painful to talk about? He reached across and took one of Draco's hands in his own, doing his best to provide moral support. To his amazement, Draco shrank away from his touch, turning his head away and pulling his hand out of Harry's. Harry frowned. "Dray?" he queried, confused and more than a little frightened.

Draco shook his head. "I understand," he whispered. "It's not your fault. I'm not going to make you stay."

"Wh…" Harry suddenly realized just what his words must have sounded like to Draco, and his eyes widened with horror. "No!" he said fiercely. "Draco, that's not what I meant! How could you even _think_ that!?"

Draco looked at him again, a question in his eyes. "You're not leaving?" he asked, the hope creeping in despite him.

"Of course not! I love you, Draco. How could you think that I don't?"

"I wouldn't," Draco muttered.

"What do you mean?"

For once, Draco didn't roll his eyes at that question. Keeping his voice very low, he told Harry, "My father is going to take me to Voldemort when he gets back."

"Take you to…" Harry frowned, then gasped. His hands tightened convulsively on the arm of Draco's chair, and he starred at his love in abject horror. "No! He can't!"

"Yes he can," Draco said dully. "When Voldemort says jump…" he let the sentence trail off, not needing to finish.

"I won't let him!" Harry exclaimed, unwilling even to _think_ of the ugly black mark adorning Draco's perfect arm. "I'll… I'll… I'll kill him first!"

"No!" Draco exclaimed. "No, Harry, you can't do that! You're not ready yet. He would kill you."

"I don't care," Harry spat. "I'd rather die than let him do that to you." The very prospect made him sick, and he had to close his eyes and clench his fists to keep from gagging outright.

"You can't," Draco said again, his voice full of fear now. "You need to stay alive. You're the only one who can stop him!"

"No," Harry said firmly, opening his eyes and looking straight at Draco. "_We're_ the only ones who can stop him."

"How?"

"Don't you remember last term?" Harry demanded. "You promised you would be there to help me. You can't do that if you give in to him."

"What choice do I have?" Draco asked, staring at a point beyond Harry's head.

"You always have a choice," Harry told him firmly.

"You might," Draco told him. "I'm not you."

Obstinately, Harry shook his head. "Everyone has a choice," he insisted.

"I don't."

Harry clenched his hands, this time in an effort to keep himself from slapping some sense into Draco. He couldn't stand it when Draco got this way, and Draco knew it very well. "Listen," he ground out. "I am not going to argue with you about this anymore, understand? You _do_ have a choice, you _will_ help me fight Voldemort, and we _won't_ give up, got it?"

Unwillingly, Draco nodded.

"Good." Harry's hands unclenched as he forced himself to relax. "So, what are we going to do about this?"

"You're the one who seems to have all the good ideas," Draco said, a little stiffly. "What do _you_ want to do?"

Harry considered this for a long moment. Finally, he asked, "Do you know when your parents come home?"

Draco shrugged. "No. I doubt they do either."

Harry nodded. He knew enough about Death Eaters and Voldemort to believe that. "Just how much are you willing to fight with them?"

Draco looked confused, then fearful. "Not at all, if possible," he confessed.

"Then I think we'll have to run away."

Draco's eyes widened as he considered the possibility. He began to shake his head. "I can't," he breathed. "They'll find me and kill me!"

"I won't let them do it," Harry insisted. "Draco, listen to me. I'm not going to let _anyone_ kill you, I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Draco cautioned.

Harry sighed. Why was this so hard for Draco to understand? "I don't," he said tersely.

"Yes you do," Draco insisted. "You're wonderful, Harry, but you can't fight them all alone."

"Who ever said I was alone?"

"Who's going to help you protect _me_?"

"You will."

Draco blinked. "What?"

"Aren't you going to fight for yourself?"

Draco frowned. He clearly hadn't even considered the possibility. Harry sighed in exasperation. "You weren't just going to let them take you, were you?"

"That was the plan, yes," Draco muttered.

Harry threw his hands up in the air, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe this," he exclaimed. "What in Hell possessed you?!"

Draco's face hardened. "You don't know what it's like," he spat. "You haven't lived with him for your entire life."

"So? I've fought against him; I've fought against people I _did_ grow up with, and I know how hard it is. But I did it! I clenched my teeth and fought with them and won."

"I'm not you. I'm not that brave."

"Yes you are!" Harry insisted, leaning forward again. "You just don't believe in yourself. Look, tell you what. I'll stay here and provide moral support, but _you_ will do the talking."

"I thought you promised not to let anyone kill me."

"He's not going to kill you."

"You clearly don't know him as well as you think you do."

"You clearly don't believe in your own power."

"What power?"

Harry grinned, leaning even closer, so close his lips almost brushed Draco's ear as he answered, "Love."

To his credit, Draco valiantly retained a snort at that. "You think _that_ will impress my father?"

Harry's grin widened. "Maybe not. But it'll help you if you think it will."

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

"Ever heard of a leap of faith?"

"Oh, please!"

"Humor me in this, please. Just close your eyes, take a deep breath, and leap. I'll be there to catch you on the other side."

"And if I fall in the middle?"

"Then I'll be there too."

"That's reassuring."

"It should be."

They sat in silence for a moment. Finally, Draco sighed. His voice had lost all traces of sarcasm as he confessed, "I don't think I can do this, Harry."

"I know you can," Harry said firmly, his own voice just as serious. "You just need to have a little confidence."

Draco didn't answer. Harry reached out and took his hand again. This time, Draco didn't pull away. "Whatever happens, I will be there for you every step of the way," he vowed. "You're the most important thing in my life. I'm not going to abandon you."

"You promise?" He sounded like a small child, lost and frightened, doing his best to act older than his age.

"I promise." Draco looked at him at last, and Harry rose slightly to take the slender boy in his arms, cradling Draco as though he were the most precious object in the world, which was exactly what he was. Draco's arms came around Harry at last, and they clung to each other, neither letting the tears through, but each knowing the other felt them too. And, for the moment, no one existed but the other. All their troubles were banished to some other place, inaccessible and hidden. It was only them together. They were the only people in the world.

"I love you," Harry whispered into Draco's hair. Draco nodded. He didn't need to answer. Harry already knew.


	4. A dificult conversation

_Author's note: Here it is at last! I apologize sincerely for how long it's taken, but this part was actually really hard to wright. sigh Oh well, it's up now, and I'm decently happy with it, so I hope you're all happy too. Thanks for your patience with my muse, who is off exploring the wide world of satirical fairy tales. shrug It's not like _I_ can control what she does... Which reminds me, I am most certainly not JK Rowling, which means that they aren't mine. If only... _

* * *

A difficult conversation

Draco was getting desperate. He and Harry were slowly falling into the beginning of the end, and he knew he wouldn't be able to bear it. This whole business with his father was killing them, yet Draco didn't know how to bring the subject up. After all, he still wanted to keep Harry's respect, and breaking down and admitting his fear was probably not the best way to do that. He sighed, wondering what on Earth he was going to do.

It didn't help, of course, that Harry sensed something was wrong and did his best to get Draco to tell him what it was. Even worse, Draco wanted to tell him. He wanted to, but he knew he couldn't. It would just make them uncomfortable around each other, and that would eventually lead to Harry leaving. Draco wasn't sure he could bear that. So he tiptoed around Harry, doing his best not to bring up anything that might be seen as a lead in to the conversation he was dreading. Unfortunately, Harry was very good at worming information out of Draco when he wanted to be, and he wanted to be now.

He was sitting in Draco's room, and Draco knew the moment he pushed the door open that he wasn't going to like the conversation they were about to have. Hesitantly, he asked, "Harry?"

Harry took a deep breath, obviously steeling himself for something. Draco's sense of unease increased. Harry's words turned it to full-blown panic. "Draco, we need to talk."

"About what?" Draco tried to sound calm and collected, and failed miserably. This was it, he told himself. This was where Harry turned around and said goodbye. He hoped he could retain his tears until after Harry was gone.

"About us."

Draco didn't answer. He refused to meet Harry's eyes, concentrating instead on memorizing the pattern of the grain of the wood on his chair. He would _not_ break down, he _wouldn't_! "This isn't working anymore," Harry said after a long moment.

Draco still didn't say anything, biting his lip ferociously and holding on to his control as hard as he possibly could.

"You need to tell me the truth," Harry continued. Draco frowned slightly. Wasn't he saying what Draco knew he was saying? "No more secrets, Dray. What are you hiding from me?"

Unable to bear it any longer, Draco looked up. He knew that there were tears in his eyes, but they weren't falling yet. Hopefully they wouldn't drip down until after Harry was gone. "I… I'm sorry," he whispered, hoping it would be enough and knowing it wasn't.

Harry slid off the bed and moved to where Draco was sitting. He knelt down so that his eyes were level with Draco's torso, and reached out to take one of Draco's hands. Draco flinched away, wishing Harry would just get on with it. His control was slipping, and he desperately needed to be alone. "Dray?" Harry asked, frowning.

Draco shook his head, wondering just what Harry was waiting for. Was he trying to make sure Draco wasn't mad at him? "I understand," he whispered. "It's not your fault. I'm not going to make you stay."

"Wh…" Harry trailed off, obviously bewildered. Suddenly, his face whitened in shock and horror. "No!" he said fiercely. "Draco, that's not what I meant! How could you even _think_ that!?"

Draco blinked. It couldn't be… could it? He had to know. "You're not leaving?" he whispered, unable to keep the desperate hope from his voice.

"Of course not! I love you, Draco. How could you think that I don't?"

"I wouldn't," Draco muttered bitterly, recalling exactly why it was a bad idea for anyone, much less Harry, to love him.

"What do you mean?"

Draco was too miserable to be exasperated with Harry's characteristic lack of comprehension. So low he was amazed Harry could hear it at all, he whispered, "My father is going to take me to Voldemort when he gets back."

"Take you to…" Draco watched as Harry understood the implications of his statement. The dark-haired boy's hands clenched convulsively on the wood of the chair. "No! He can't!"

"Yes he can," Draco said dully, wishing Harry would just understand that it was hopeless. Not everyone could be the hero. "When Voldemort says jump…" he let the sentence trail off, not bothering to finish. Harry knew what it was like. He _must_.

"I won't let him!" Harry exclaimed, his voice tight with fury and emotion. "I'll… I'll… I'll kill him first!"

"No!" Draco gasped, shying away from the very thought of Harry up against the monster that was Voldemort. "No, Harry, you can't do that! You're not ready yet. He would kill you."

"I don't care," Harry spat. "I'd rather die than let him do that to you." He clenched his fists, taking deep breaths as he struggled to control himself.

"You can't," Draco whispered, doing his best to show Harry just how much of a bad idea it would be to risk his life just to save Draco. "You need to stay alive. You're the only one who can stop him!"

"No," Harry said firmly. He opened his eyes and stared straight at Draco. When he spoke, his voice was low and intense. "_We're_ the only ones who can stop him."

Draco almost laughed at the irony of that statement. _Him_, son of a Death Eater, being told that he would be the one to defeat his father's master? It would have been hilarious if Harry hadn't been so serious about it. He restrained his disbelief to a simple,"How?"

"Don't you remember last term?" Harry demanded. "You promised you would be there to help me. You can't do that if you give in to him."

"What choice do I have?" Draco muttered grimly, not meeting Harry's eyes.

"You always have a choice," Harry told him firmly.

"You might," Draco told him. "I'm not you." Oh no. Draco was not Harry. Harry had no family, no obligations. He was free to save the world at his leisure. Draco, unfortunately, did not have those same advantages.

Harry shook his head stubbornly. "Everyone has a choice," he insisted.

"I don't." It wasn't hard to understand. Why was Harry making a big thing of this? Draco did as he was told, and that was final.

Harry ground his teeth together, and Draco couldn't help feeling slightly guilty. Harry had made it quite plain last term that he loathed what he termed Draco's 'I'm pathetic, feel sorry for me' act. Sure enough, "Listen. I am not going to argue with you about this anymore, understand? You _do_ have a choice, you _will_ help me fight Voldemort, and we _won't_ give up, got it?"

Unable to deny his love this, Draco nodded, wondering how in Hell he would manage to do this and stay alive at the same time.

"Good." Harry relaxed slightly, though Draco could see the effort it cost him. "So, what are we going to do about this?"

"You're the one who seems to have all the good ideas," Draco pointed out stiffly. He might have agreed to save the world, but it didn't mean he had to come up with how to do it. "What do _you_ want to do?"

Harry thought for a long moment while Draco bit his tongue hard to stop himself from speaking. Finally, Harry asked, "Do you know when your parents come home?"

Draco shrugged. "No. I doubt they do either."

Harry nodded as though that made perfect sense. Remembering how much Harry knew about Death Eaters, Draco suspected he knew as much about Voldemort's unpredictability as Draco himself. "Just how much are you willing to fight with them?"

Draco started. He hadn't even considered the possibility of having to fight his father. "Not at all, if possible," he confessed.

"Then I think we'll have to run away."

Draco's eyes widened. How could Harry say that so calmly? "I can't," he breathed. "They'll find me and kill me!"

"I won't let them do it," Harry insisted, leaning forward to emphasize his words. "Draco, listen to me. I'm not going to let _anyone_ kill you, I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Draco cautioned. Harry might think he was tough, but he clearly didn't know Lucius Malfoy.

Harry sighed. "I don't," he said tersely.

"Yes you do," Draco insisted. "You're wonderful, Harry, but you can't fight them all alone."

"Who ever said I was alone?"

"Who's going to help you protect _me_?" Not the rest of the Golden Trio, that was for sure.

"You will."

Draco blinked. Harry had said it so calmly, as though it were obvious. "What?" Draco managed.

"Aren't you going to fight for yourself?" Harry sounded amazed. Draco hated to admit that the idea hadn't even crossed his mind.

Harry sighed in exasperation, reading Draco's expression. "You weren't just going to let them take you, were you?"

"That was the plan, yes," Draco muttered.

Harry looked at Draco in shocked disbelief. "I can't believe this," he exclaimed. "What in Hell possessed you?!"

Draco looked at him bitterly. Harry was wonderful, and Draco already knew he couldn't live without him, but he would gladly slap the other boy right now. Could anyone be _that_ dense? "You don't know what it's like," he spat. "You haven't lived with him for your entire life."

"So? I've fought against him; I've fought against people I _did_ grow up with, and I know how hard it is. But I did it! I clenched my teeth and fought with them and won."

"I'm not you. I'm not that brave." It was hard to say it, but Draco knew he had to.

"Yes you are!" Harry insisted, leaning forward again. "You just don't believe in yourself. Look, tell you what. I'll stay here and provide moral support, but _you_ will do the talking."

"I thought you promised not to let anyone kill me."

"He's not going to kill you." Harry said that with such overwhelming confidence that Draco almost laughed.

"You clearly don't know him as well as you think you do."

"You clearly don't believe in your own power."

Draco blinked. "What power?"

Harry's expression slid into a seductive grin as he leaned forward to whisper into Draco's ear, "Love."

It was hard, but Draco managed not to either roll his eyes or snort. He couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice, though. "You think _that_ will impress my father?"

Harry's grin widened. "Maybe not. But it'll help you if you think it will."

Draco began to seriously consider the possibility that his love had gone insane. "And how am I supposed to do that?"

"Ever heard of a leap of faith?"

Now Draco did roll his eyes. This was beyond ridiculous. "Oh, please!"

"Humor me in this, please. Just close your eyes, take a deep breath, and leap. I'll be there to catch you on the other side."

"And if I fall in the middle?" He was trying his best to humor Harry, but it was hard.

"Then I'll be there too."

"That's reassuring." It was, in a weird way. It was also the most terrifying thing Harry had said so far.

"It should be."

They sat in silence for a moment. Draco lost the fight against his dislike of silences, and his voice was barely more than a whisper as he admitted, "I don't think I can do this, Harry."

"I know you can," Harry said firmly, his own voice louder but completely serious. "You just need to have a little confidence."

Draco had nothing to say to that, but when Harry took his hand again, he didn't pull away. "Whatever happens, I will be there for you every step of the way," Harry vowed, holding Draco's hand tightly. "You're the most important thing in my life. I'm not going to abandon you."

"You promise?" Draco hated the insecure pleading note to his voice, but he couldn't get rid of it.

"I promise." He sounded so sure of his words that Draco couldn't help believing a little in them too. He looked up, and then he was in Harry's arms, his head buried in the other boy's chest. He wrapped his own arms around Harry, and they clung to each other, lending support and taking it, knowing at last that they were the only people who really mattered in the world. Voldemort was immaterial, as were any others who chose to show their faces. The only people were Harry and Draco. They were alone, and perfect that way.

"I love you," Harry whispered into Draco's hair. Draco only nodded, secure at last in the knowledge that he didn't need words to tell Harry. They understood each other, and that was infinitely more precious than any words either of them could say.


	5. I've missed you

_Author's note: We are so sorry for the time it took to get this chapter out. We really have no excuse, apart from the fact that Tamara was distracted. Yes, we know we need to be firm with her, but it's hard to reason with an immortal. She doesn't see time in quite the same way we do. Anyway, we hope you like this chapter and please review! Oh, and need we say that we are not JK Rowling? Because we're fairly certain that she doesn't have alternate personalities, though we could, of course, be wrong about that. It doesn't matter. Let us leave it at this: we are not her and she is not we and we don't think that last phrase was grammatically correct at all and we do not care. And now, on with the chapter..._

* * *

I've missed you

The days passed slowly, filled with laughter and relaxation. Harry, at least, had calmed down considerably, and, now that the decision of how to deal with Draco's parents had been made, there wasn't anything more to worry about. At least Harry didn't have anything more to worry about, and, if Draco did, he wasn't saying anything. They merely enjoyed each others company and the privacy offered by Draco's enormous house.

Harry still couldn't get over the size of Malfoy Mansion. One could easily have fit two of the Dursleys' house inside and still have room to move around. Draco, who'd lived here all his life, obviously thought nothing of it, but Harry was left in awe every time he realized walking from one end to the other left him tired and out of breath. It didn't seem right, somehow, that any house should do that to him, even if it _was_ Draco's.

"It's just a house," Draco said, yet again, his eyes dancing in amusement as he spotted Harry looking around the entrance hall with wide eyes.

"So you say," Harry agreed. "I still think it's incredible."

Draco sighed. "I know you do. And I still don't understand why."

"You've become desensitized," Harry told him fondly. "Look at it through my eyes."

"I'd rather not," Draco said, smiling. "It's so much more entertaining to watch you than to be you."

"You've never been me, so how would you know?"

"I don't. But I can guess."

Harry grinned. "So what do you guess?"

"You really want to know?"

Harry nodded.

"I guess that you are a very sincere, very noble person who has never been in a proper house before and is feeling completely out of his depths. I guess that you feel slightly uncomfortable here but don't want to say anything for fear of hurting my feelings. I guess that you want to go back to Hogwarts where you're on familiar turf. I guess that you're worried and refuse to say anything about it. Am I close?"

Harry, staring at him in awe, nodded.

Draco laughed. "You can close your mouth," he observed. "I might start thinking I'd surprised you."

"You did surprise me," Harry told him. "How do you _know_ all that?"

Draco shrugged. "You're easy to understand," he said. "For someone who knows you well, of course."

"And you're one of those people, are you?"

"I believe I am. Why, do you think differently?"

"I think that I couldn't do nearly as well if I tried to be you."

Draco grinned. "Try."

Harry shook his head. "I'll make a fool of myself."

"That's never stopped you before."

"Hey!"

Draco grinned again. "You know it's true."

"Doesn't mean I like having it pointed out to me," Harry muttered.

Draco laughed. "You know you like it," he teased, taking a step closer.

Harry deliberately took a half step back, his green eyes flashing in invitation. Draco needed no more telling, and reached out to snag Harry's waist. Draco reeled him in until they were only a hair's breadth apart. Their eyes locked, green and gray, emerald and mercury, the emotion in them enough to leave both boys short of breath.

"I want…" Draco whispered, moving even closer until his lips just barely brushed Harry's. Harry didn't give him a chance to finish, closing the distance at last and crushing Draco's lips with his own. The other boy reacted in kind, and no words were spoken for a very long time.

Finally, they separated, both flushed and panting. "I've missed this," Harry said, his voice slightly rough.

"Missed what, the kissing?" Draco's voice was just as rough, and his usually pale face glowed slightly.

"That too," Harry agreed.

Draco laughed. "Good to know that's not all you keep me for."

"Oh, no. I keep you for this, too." Harry's fingers deftly slip up Draco's back and tickled his neck. Draco emitted a slight squeak, followed by a much louder one as Harry reached a particularly sensitive spot. "You squeak so satisfyingly."

Draco tried to glower and failed. "So nice to know you love me."

"Oh, I do," Harry assured him. "I love you more than you will ever know."

"Somehow I doubt that," Draco murmured. "I have a large imagination."

Harry grinned and leaned across for another kiss.

* * *

_Author's note: Wow, this chapter is short, isn't it? So sorry about that! We'll do our best to make the next one longer!_


	6. Of course I love you

_Author's note: Dare we ask for forgiveness for the lateness of this update? I didn't think so. We can only hope that you've been willing to wait for it. It's almost summer, so we'll have more time to write, but, knowing us, we won't take advantage of it. But we can only hope we'll be good about it. Anyway, here's Draco's POV, which means that the next chapter will be a new conversations. Yay!  
Need we inform you that we are not JK Rowling? We didn't think so...  
--kyra and tamara_

* * *

Of course I love you

Draco allowed himself to relax into a state of calm contentment. Harry was there with him, and Harry would protect him from his father. He refused to think past that, to the death or disaster that would come of such an act on Harry's part, and merely concentrated on the moment, which was usually filled with Harry. The two boys had barely left each other's side since they arrived, going as far as sleeping in the same bed – chastely. Draco _was_ a Malfoy, and he would be damned if he slept with anyone before he married, or at least left school. He refused to think that he and Harry might never marry. He was a Malfoy, Harry was Harry Potter, and they would do whatever they pleased.

Meanwhile, he spent his time with the love of his life, laughing at Harry's awe at the size of his house and wondering, privately, what it would be like to live there with Harry forever, just the two of them, free from burdens and trials.

"It's just a house." This was Draco's constant litany, uttered every time Harry expressed awe at the size of Malfoy Manner.

"So you say," Harry muttered. "I still think it's incredible."

Draco sighed, hiding a grimace. "I know you do. And I still don't understand why."

"You've become desensitized. Look at it through my eyes."

"I'd rather not," Draco informed him, grinning slightly. "It's so much more entertaining to watch you than to be you." It was, but it was also very slightly depressing. Harry Potter should have been brought up in a house like this one, complete with House-Elves, money, and more rooms than a body could reasonably count, not in that disgusting Muggle house Draco had saved him from.

"You've never been me, so how would you know?"

Draco had to grin at that. "I don't. But I can guess."

Harry grinned back, his voice both curious and filled with gentle irony. Draco couldn't help feeling smug at that last. Harry hadn't known irony before he met Draco, and how he was almost proficient at using it. That was certainly an accomplishment! "So what do you guess?"

"You really want to know?" Actually, Draco wasn't quite sure what Harry was thinking, but he wasn't about to admit to his bluff.

Harry nodded.

"I guess that you are a very sincere, very noble person who has never been in a proper house before and is feeling completely out of his depths. I guess that you feel slightly uncomfortable here but don't want to say anything for fear of hurting my feelings. I guess that you want to go back to Hogwarts where you're on familiar turf. I guess that you're worried and refuse to say anything about it. Am I close?" He was. He could tell from Harry's expression that he'd gotten most of it. 'Just switch "slightly uncomfortable" to "very uncomfortable",' Draco thought, the bitterness surprising him. He shoved the thought away with difficulty.

Harry, staring at him in awe, nodded.

Draco laughed. "You can close your mouth," he observed, forcing himself to keep his tone light. "I might start thinking I'd surprised you."

"You did surprise me," Harry answered, still clearly shocked. "How do you _know_ all that?"

Draco shrugged. "You're easy to understand," he said. "For someone who knows you well, of course." That was a gamble, but he hoped Harry would accept it.

"And you're one of those people, are you?"

"I believe I am. Why, do you think differently?" Light words to mask inner anxiety. What if he said no?

"I think that I couldn't do nearly as well if I tried to be you." Draco sighed slightly. Why was Harry never capable of giving a straight answer? For once in his life, Harry could have come out with a flat yes or no.

Even so, he grinned, once more forcing lightness into his voice. If he kept this up long enough, he might actually feel like what he acted like. "Try."

Harry shook his head. "I'll make a fool of myself," he said defensively.

"That's never stopped you before." It was working. Draco could already feel the forced happiness affecting his mood, and the lightness was less forced than it had been moments before.

"Hey!"

Draco grinned again. "You know it's true."

"Doesn't mean I like having it pointed out to me," Harry muttered.

Draco laughed. "You know you like it," he teased, taking a step closer.

Harry took half a step back, then waited, eyeing Draco hungrily. Draco grinned and reached out, deftly hooking his arm around Harry's waist and pulling him closer. When they were almost touching, Draco paused, letting the moment hang in a deliberately provocative move. Their eyes met, and both boys felt their breath catch in their throats.

"I want…" Draco found himself moving closer, his lips brushing Harry's as he tried to figure out what it was he did want. Thankfully, Harry wasn't nearly as indecisive, and he increased the pressure on their lips. Draco responded, and they stood there, molded together, for a very long time.

Finally, reluctantly, they pulled away, both out of breath and neither caring. "I've missed this," Harry said, his voice slightly rough.

"Missed what, the kissing?" Draco's own voice sounded just as rough to his ears, and he hoped that it didn't sound that way to Harry, though he knew it probably did.

"That too," Harry agreed, grinning wickedly.

Draco laughed, his former morbid thoughts chased away by the touch of his love. "Good to know that's not all you keep me for."

"Oh, no. I keep you for this, too." Harry, still grinning wickedly, slipped his fingers up Draco's shirt and tickled his neck. Draco squeaked, unable to stop himself. Harry's grin widened and his questing fingers continued to move, producing another squeak as they hit a sensitive spot. Harry's grin changed slightly, going from wicked to seductive. "You squeak so satisfyingly."

Draco tried to glower at Harry, doing his best to uphold his dignity as a Malfoy, but it didn't work, and he didn't mind. "So nice to know you love me."

"Oh, I do," Harry assured him. "I love you more than you will ever know."

"Somehow I doubt that," Draco murmured. "I have a large imagination."

Harry grinned and leaned across for another kiss. Draco accepted it, his eyes closed in bliss, convinced that nothing should ever change.


	7. Home sweet home… not

_Author's note: This so serves me right for trying to plan my stories out in advance. Trust me, it didn't work very well. -sigh- Anyway, here's the next chapter of Every Rose, which I hope you enjoy. I made it long, mostly 'cause they wouldn't stop talking (-muttermutter-) and partly 'cause I know I've neglected this story for a while. I'm going to concentrate on it for now and see if I can finish it before I leave. Not that my leaving will stop me from having internet time, I just might have a little less and be exposed to public scrutiny, and I don't like people watching me as I write. (_i don't see why not. you're vain enough about it.) _Kyra, you wanted _me_ to write this author's note, so you should stay out of it, okay? (_..._) Good. As I was saying, I want to finish this story before the end of the month, which means at least three more conversation, or six more chapters (seven, counting the Draco version of this one.) So you'll have something to look forward to! Lucky you.  
Disclaimer: Yes, of course I'm JK Rowling. I published my first book as a single mother, got to know my character on a train, and was a bestseller. Oh, and did I mention that I also own .05 of the moon? Come on people..._

* * *

Home sweet home… not

It had to happen eventually. Harry knew it did, but he'd hoped that, by squeezing his eyes shut and turning away, he would make it go away. It didn't, and after another week of delicious freedom, everything came crashing down to sit at his feet like a prized ice sculpture, melting slightly as it touched the ground and dampening his shoes in the process.

His first and only clue was Draco's wild entry into his room at three in the morning. The blonde's hair stuck up wildly every which way, reminding Harry rather forcefully of his own black locks, and the gray eyes were wide with an emotion Harry couldn't quite recognize. Not fear, or pain, or anger… something like a combination of the three. Harry knew what Draco was going to say before his love even opened his mouth, but he let Draco say it anyway.

"They're back."

Harry sat up. He ran a hand through his hair, knowing full well that that would just put it in worse condition and not giving a damn. "How long have they been here?"

Draco shrugged. "No idea. Not that long. They haven't found you yet."

"Are they looking for me?"

"They will be."

Harry sighed. "We'll have to leave. Unless you want to fight them now, that is."

Draco shook his head. "No!"

"I didn't think so." Harry frowned. "Where can we go?"

Draco shrugged. "There isn't some hideaway used by those combating the dark side?"

"There is, but you can't go there."

Draco's hands clenched and he scowled fiercely. "Oh, so now you're doubting my _loyalty_? Some way to repay what I've done. Maybe I should just let my father find you!"

"I didn't mean it that way," Harry snapped back. "If it were up to me, you'd be in right away. But it's protected and I'm not secret keeper. You can't get to it until I write to Dumbledore."

"Oh, and you think _he'll_ let me in?"

Harry scowled. "He'd better! It's my house, after all!"

Draco blinked. "The muggle house? But… but I could get there just fine!"

"Not that one." Harry shuddered slightly. "God no. This is Sirius' house."

"Sirius… Sirius Black?"

Harry nodded. "He was my Godfather, remember?"

"And he left you his house?"

"Among other things. But we can't actually get there until Dumbledore lets you in." Harry bit his lip, knowing the answer and hating it. Unfortunately, there weren't any other options, and time really was of the essence. "It'll have to be my aunt and uncle's house."

Draco grimaced. "Must we?"

"You have a better place in mind?" Harry demanded. He waited. Draco said nothing. "I didn't think so. Do you want to go there or stay here and be caught?"

"You make it sound like the latter is actually a choice."

"You always have a choice," Harry reminded him. "So which is it?"

Draco gifted him with a look of withering scorn, no small accomplishment, considering that it was three in the morning and Draco was still in his sleep-wear, disheveled from slumber and sporting black smudges under his eyes.

"Fine. Anything you can't live without?"

"My broom?"

"How else were we going to get there?"

Draco blinked. "You can't Apparate?"

"Never bothered to learn. Why, can you?"

"Of course." He said it like it was obvious, which, Harry realized after a moment, it was. Probably everyone but him could do it from his year. He shrugged the thought away.

"Brooms anyway?"

"I'm not leaving mine behind," Draco informed him. "I have no desire for it to serve as firewood for tomorrow's dinner."

Harry nodded. "So how do we get there?"

Draco grinned slightly. "Through the window. How else?"

How else indeed. Harry watched as Draco unlatched the window, glanced around, and slip himself up and over. Harry followed, missing the landing and falling to the ground with an audible noise.

"Are you all right?"

Harry nodded. "Misjudged the distance," he murmured, standing again. He winced slightly as his ankle protested but, other than that, he was unharmed. "Let's go." They fled across the grass, two dark silhouettes, running soundlessly through the garden, their hands clutched together. Harry drew his wand with his free hand, gasping, "Alohamora" as they approached the broom shed. They grabbed their brooms, closing and locking the door behind them.

"You'd better close your eyes," Draco warned. "It's a little disconcerting if you're not used to it."

"What do I do?"

"Just think of the wretched place. Probably your room, since it's the only room I was actually in, thankfully."

Harry nodded and closed his eyes, gripping Draco's hand tightly. He concentrated on his room, trying to think of it dispassionately, without any of the loathing or anger he normally associated with the place. He felt a horrible wrenching feeling in his belly, followed by another and a loud crack.

"You alright?" Draco's voice sounded odd in Harry's ringing ears. Harry nodded. Suddenly he stiffened, his rapidly returning to normal ears detecting the unmistakable sounds of his uncle barging up the stairs. As Harry had expected, Vernon's bullhorn roar preceded him by a good fifteen seconds.

"WHO THE RUDDY HELL IS UP THERE??"

Harry glanced at Draco, who shrugged. "Do you have any great desire to hide our presence from your relatives?"

"It wouldn't really do any good, since he's coming up anyway."

"We could leave," Draco pointed out.

"And go where? My uncle might be an idiot and a bully, but he's never actually hit me."

Draco winced slightly at that. "I suppose," he muttered.

The door burst open to reveal Vernon's jello-like figure. His piggy eyes were squinted up in rage, and his numerous chins quivered like they pad palsy. Harry couldn't help thinking how very pathetic his uncle looked in that moment. He wondered what on Earth Aunt Petunia had seen in him. Though, considering what she was like herself, maybe it wasn't all that surprising.

"_You_?!" Vernon's bellow had subsided to a level somewhere between a roar and a holler, though Harry would be willing to bet that the neighbors could still hear him without straining their ears. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Harry looked coldly at his uncle. "We're running away," he said bluntly. "Draco's father is a sadistic terrorist who will kill us if he finds us. We have to get into contact with the headmaster of our school so that he can give Draco the password to my house and we can stay there until school starts."

Vernon, for once, had nothing to say. He stood in front of the pair, gawking at Harry's frank statement.

"You forgot the bit about Voldemort," Draco pointed out, not taking his eyes from Vernon's face.

"Oh yeah. Draco's father works for a terrorist overlord who killed my parents and now has it in for me."

Vernon finally recovered his ability to speak. Unfortunately, he also recovered his volume. "And so you come here, putting _my family's_ lives in danger and expect me just to ACCEPT IT?!" His voice grew steadily louder until it reached its full, eardrum piercing potential.

"In case you'd forgotten," Harry informed him coldly, rummaging through his drawer for some paper and a pen, "I'm part of your family too."

"Not anymore you aren't! I'm disowning you as of now."

"What, so now I won't get that toothpick you left me in your will? Forgive me if I don't cry about that. Here we are!" He pulled out a sheet of parchment and a ballpoint pen. Draco looked at it with interest, but didn't say anything. Harry uncapped the pen and scrawled hastily.

_Prof. Dumbledore:_

_Draco and I are at my aunt and uncle's house. I need you to tell Draco where Grimmauld Place is so that we can go there to escape his father._

_H. Potter_

He looked around for Hedwig. She was nowhere to be found. He cursed fluently as he tried to figure out when she could be back.

"Give it here," Draco said, holding his hand out. Harry passed him the note, and Draco drew his wand. Vernon recoiled visibly, and Harry couldn't help feeling a sharp feeling of satisfaction at the sight.

Draco muttered something under his breath and the paper folded obligingly into a paper airplane. He glanced at Harry.

"Where do you think he'll be?"

"Try Hogwarts. Someone'll find it, if not Dumbledore."

Draco nodded and went back to the airplane. He tapped it once with his wand, uttered a short spell, and threw it out the window. It shudder briefly, then steadied itself and zoomed off towards Hogwarts. Harry watched it go, wondering how long it would take. He hoped it wouldn't take long: he didn't want to temp fate any more than he had to, and he wasn't sure he could withstand the temptation to torture the Dursleys, now that he could legally do magic. He turned away from Vernon and went to the window, hoping that they wouldn't have to spend more than the night here. He _really_ didn't want to get arrested on top of everything else.


	8. Inevitable

_Author's note: Oh, I had fun with this. I love writing from Draco's POV, it's always so satisfying. I hope it's as satisfying for you to read.  
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, JK Rowling wasn't good enough to reconcile Harry and Draco in the actual books, so it's up to people like me to remedy that.  
--Tamara_

* * *

Inevitable

It's useless to try and slow down time, but everyone tries it anyway. Draco was no exception in this, apart from the fact that he did his very best to enchant all the clocks in his house to work backwards, as though that would make time itself obey. Needless to say, it was a fruitless effort, and one that just made things worse for everyone. But he couldn't help it; he was desperate. His father hadn't come back yet, which meant that, when he did come, it would be even worse for everyone. No one stayed with Voldemort longer than they had to. If Draco's parents were still away, something bad must have happened.

And, despite knowing that they would be back eventually, the only emotion he felt when the door slammed open at three in the morning was pure, icy terror, quickly replaced by a hard, heavy feeling of dread. They had to get out. Now. He slipped out of bed and flew across the hall to Harry's room.

"They're back."

Harry sat up with a jolt, his eyes wide. He tugged his hand through his hair, sending it wildly every which way, and demanded, "How long have they been here?"

Draco shrugged. "No idea. Not that long. They haven't found you yet." But they would soon. They had to leave.

"Are they looking for me?"

Draco hoped to God that they weren't yet. "They will be."

Harry sighed, closing his eyes as he thought. "We'll have to leave. Unless you want to fight them now, that is."

Draco shook his head. "No!" Hadn't they been over this before? He wouldn't – couldn't – fight with his father.

"I didn't think so." Harry frowned, thinking aloud. "Where can we go?"

Draco shrugged, trying to mask his growing panic. "There isn't some hideaway used by those combating the dark side?" He hoped Harry didn't hear the ring of desperation in his voice.

"There is, but you can't go there."

His anger was fueled by fear and exhaustion, and his reply was much sharper than he'd intended. "Oh, so now you're doubting my _loyalty_? Some way to repay what I've done. Maybe I should just let my father find you!"

"I didn't mean it that way," Harry snapped back, his own voice too sharp. "If it were up to me, you'd be in right away. But it's protected and I'm not secret keeper. You can't get to it until I write to Dumbledore."

"Oh, and you think _he'll_ let me in?" They were wasting precious time here! Who cared what the old coot had to say? They had to get away, and they had to do it now!

Harry scowled. "He'd better! It's my house, after all!"

That was unexpected. What was Harry talking about? "The muggle house? But… but I could get there just fine!"

"Not that one." Harry shuddered slightly. "God no. This is Sirius' house."

"Sirius… Sirius Black?" What was Harry doing having _Black's_ house?

Harry nodded. "He was my Godfather, remember?"

Draco had forgotten that minor detail, but he didn't mention it. It wasn't important. "And he left you his house?"

"Among other things. But we can't actually get there until Dumbledore lets you in." Harry bit his lip, looking annoyed. With a slight growl, he said, "It'll have to be my aunt and uncle's house."

Draco grimaced, remembering the muggle house. He certainly didn't want to go _there_ again. "Must we?"

"You have a better place in mind?" Harry demanded. Draco said nothing. He didn't have any other options. Once, he would have been able to name a dozen hideaways in moments, but times had changed. "I didn't think so. Do you want to go there or stay here and be caught?"

"You make it sound like the latter is actually a choice."

"You always have a choice," Harry reminded him. "So which is it?"

Draco didn't bother replying, merely sending a glower in Harry's direction. If the black haired boy thought for even one _moment_ that Draco would rather stay here…

"Fine. Anything you can't live without?"

"My broom?" He hadn't meant it to come out as a question, but it had. He winced slightly.

"How else were we going to get there?"

Draco blinked. "You can't Apparate?" That was a surprise. Draco had been fairly certain that all the sixth years had learned. He knew he had.

"Never bothered to learn. Why, can you?"

"Of course." Really, where had Harry _been_ last year? Well, apart from with Draco, that is.

"Brooms anyway?"

"I'm not leaving mine behind," Draco informed him. "I have no desire for it to serve as firewood for tomorrow's dinner." So what if his father had been the one to buy it? It was a good broom, and he wouldn't be able to afford one for himself until he came into his inheritance, which wouldn't happen until he was at least twenty-one, if then. He wouldn't put it past his father to write him completely out of the will, after what he was going to do.

Harry nodded. "So how do we get there?"

Draco grinned slightly. Finally, a question he could answer with absolute certainty! "Through the window. How else?" He moved with practice silence to the window and opened it, pulling the curtains out of the way. Checking for lights behind him, he slid gracefully out and down to the ground, landing catlike with his hands hitting the ground moments after his feet. Harry followed, but he wasn't used to it, and missed the landing. He winced as he stood, glancing at his ankle.

"Are you all right?"

Harry nodded. "Misjudged the distance," he murmured. He shook his head, then added, "Let's go." They ran across the dark field, Draco reaching out for Harry's hand as he did so. It might impede their speed slightly, but Draco needed the reassurance. From the way Harry clutched Draco's hand, the other boy needed it to. Harry spelled the door open on the run, and they dashed inside.

"You'd better close your eyes," Draco warned, holding his broom in one hand and Harry with the other. "It's a little disconcerting if you're not used to it."

"What do I do?"

"Just think of the wretched place. Probably your room, since it's the only room I was actually in, thankfully."

Harry nodded and closed his eyes. Draco did the same, focusing on the muggle house. He called up the now familiar magic used to Apparate, and gave a silent command. The world disintegrated around him, and then reformed again with a loud crack. He opened his eyes to find that they'd both arrived safely, with all body parts intact. He breathed a slight sigh of relief. Splinching one's boyfriend might not be the best way to maintain a relationship.

"You alright?" Draco asked, his voice sounding slightly muffled. Harry nodded. Moments later, both of their heads turned towards the door as they detected the sounds of someone barging up the stairs.

"WHO THE RUDDY HELL IS UP THERE??"

Draco winced slightly, the shout conjuring up memories of a similar roar in a different house. He forced himself to concentrate on the present, telling himself firmly that this would be one of _Harry's_ relatives, not one of his. Harry glanced at him. Draco responded with a slight shrug. "Do you have any great desire to hide our presence from your relatives?"

"It wouldn't really do any good, since he's coming up anyway." Harry's voice was confident and strong, which did a lot for Draco's own state of mind.

"We could leave," he pointed out, knowing as he did so that it wasn't an option.

"And go where? My uncle might be an idiot and a bully, but he's never actually hit me."

Draco winced slightly at that. Wrong thing to bring up. He focused again on the sounds, far louder than any his own father would make in a similar circumstance. "I suppose," he muttered.

The door swung open and his the wall with a crash, relieving Harry's uncle. Draco studied him, fascinated despite himself, trying to find a resemblance between Harry and this pig-like man. When he utterly failed to find any, he decided that it must be through Harry's aunt that they were related. That was a relief, at least.

"_You_?!" Draco winced slightly at the loudness of the man's voice. Didn't he believe in letting the neighbors sleep? Draco assumed that they would take about as well to being woken up in the middle of the night as he himself would under normal circumstances. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Harry looked coldly at his uncle, clearly not afraid of the man in the least. "We're running away," he said bluntly. "Draco's father is a sadistic terrorist who will kill us if he finds us. We have to get into contact with the headmaster of our school so that he can give Draco the password to my house and we can stay there until school starts."

Harry's uncle only stared, unable to take it all in. Draco, slightly amused by Harry's description of his father, muttered, "You forgot the bit about Voldemort." Sadistic terrorist. He would have to remember that.

"Oh yeah. Draco's father works for a terrorist overlord who killed my parents and now has it in for me."

That seemed to spark a recovery. Or at least spark _something_. Harry's uncle's face turned a rather unhealthy shade of purple as he bellowed, "And so you come here, putting _my family's_ lives in danger and expect me just to ACCEPT IT?!" Draco winced slightly at the volume of the last words, thanking God that at least Harry's room didn't have an echo. _That_ would have been almost unbearable.

"In case you'd forgotten," Harry informed him coldly not looking at the man as he searched through the desk, "I'm part of your family too."

"Not anymore you aren't! I'm disowning you as of now."

"What, so now I won't get that toothpick you left me in your will? Forgive me if I don't cry about that. Here we are!" Harry withdrew a white cylinder from the desk and set it to the paper. Draco eyed it with interest, wondering what it was. It must be some kind of quill, he decided, as Harry began to write. Much smoother than what a quill could do, and easier to handle. He'd have to ask Harry if he could try it sometime. When they were safe once again.

Harry folded the paper, not bothering to wave it dry. Draco guessed that things written with the white sticks didn't need to be dried.

Harry looked around the room, cursing as he realized that his owl was gone. Finally, something Draco could help with. "Give it here." Harry passed him the piece of parchment, and Draco drew his wand. He heard Harry's uncle gasp slightly, but he paid the man no attention. He tapped the note and murmured the spell, watching the note go from a rolled scroll to a paper airplane. He glanced at Harry. "Where do you think he'll be?"

"Try Hogwarts. Someone'll find it, if not Dumbledore."

Draco nodded and cast the necessary spells, then threw the place out the window. It steadied itself and sped off to its destination, quickly vanishing from sight. Draco watched it go, wondering how long it would take for it to find the old coot. He hoped it wouldn't take long. He wanted to get out of the muggle house as quickly as possible, for all of their sakes.


	9. Plan B

_Author's note: well, we're back. we really have no excuses for our long absence except for the rather feeble plea of, 'well, you know, life happens...!' we understand that this is not acceptable. we swear that it will not happen again. (and we forget how many times we've done that before.)  
Disclaimer: If we're too busy to write, we're certainly busy to pretend to be JK Rowling!  
--kyra_

* * *

Plan B

The letter didn't come. They waited for two days, but nothing came. Hedwig returned, and Harry sent her out again with another letter, but there was still no answer. Harry hoped that she just wasn't finding Dumbledore. To know that the man he trusted and loved didn't return that trust enough to let Draco into Grimauld Place hurt too much to think about.

Draco was less willing to give Dumbledore the benefit of the doubt, and, by the end of the second day, he was all for forgetting Dumbledore and moving to France. When Harry demanded what France had to do with anything, Draco only shrugged. "They have good beaches there." Harry stared at him for a moment, then shrugged in his turn.

Finally, though, even Harry had to admit that they were on their own. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and he knew that he wouldn't forgive Dumbledore any time soon. He could hardly even internalize the idea that Dumbledore didn't trust his judgment, much less the idea that the man would refuse them sanctuary.

"We have to go now."

Harry turned away from the empty horizon to look at Draco. "What?"

"I said, we have to go. We can't wait for the old coot any longer. We'll have to take our chances."

Harry sighed. "Where? I don't know about you, but I don't have any other ideas."

Draco sighed. "Unfortunately, neither do I." He scowled as he said it. "But even you have to see that no good will come of waiting any longer."

Harry grimaced, unwilling to admit that Draco was right. "We don't have any alternative," he pointed out. "I, for one, refuse to go off and live in the wild."

Draco stared at Harry for a moment, then grinned. "You've been spending _far_ too much time with me, clearly," he said. "I seem to have rubbed off on you."

Harry scowled. "Maybe, but that doesn't change anything."

Draco didn't reply for a long moment. Harry didn't break the silence either; he had to think. Unfortunately, his mind remained stubbornly blank, and, after several minutes, he sagged in defeat. This was hopeless! He opened his mouth to say as much, but Draco shook his head.

"Wait. I think I might have an idea."

"France?"

Draco smiled wryly. "Not quite." He paused, and Harry repressed a scream. Why was Draco procrastinating?

"Well?"

"Patience, please! Honestly, you don't know how to wait, do you?"

"No. What's your wonderful idea?"

Draco sighed. "If you must know right _now_, it involves moving in with my aunt and uncle."

Harry's eyes flew wide open in horror. "Draco, are you _out of your mind_!? They're _death eaters_, for God's sake!"

Draco shook his head impatiently. "My _other_ aunt and uncle."

Harry frowned. "Who?"

Draco scowled. "You know of them, at least. I know you do."

Harry's scowl matched Draco's. "This is no time for guessing games," he snapped. "Spit it out."

"Andromeda and Ted Tonks. Ring any bells in that thick skull of yours?"

Harry's relief at the familiar names was almost upstaged by his irritation with Draco's tone. Hadn't they gotten over insults by now? "You could have just said that in the first place," he muttered rebelliously. "You didn't have to insult me."

Draco opened his mouth for a sharp reply, then stopped. He sages slightly, his irritation draining away. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "It's just…"

Harry stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry," he reassured the blond. Then, because Draco looked like he needed it, he drew the taller boy into a hug. A moment later, Draco returned it fiercely. Harry kissed him briefly, then drew away. "Better?"

Draco nodded, looking slightly sheepish.

"Good. Now, how can we get to your aunt and uncle's house?"

Draco frowned. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "In theory I know where they live, but I've never actually been there. It's _possible_ to Apparate to a place you've never been, but…"

Harry nodded. "Now is not the time to experiment," he finished. He frowned, trying to think of the best way to go about getting there. Finally, he sighed. "I think we'll have to ask Fred and George."

Draco frowned. "Fred and George?"

"Ron's brothers."

Draco scowled. "What can _they_ do to help?" he demanded.

Harry scowled back. "Cut it out," he ordered. "The Weasleys are my friends, and I'll thank you not to insult him."

Draco shrugged, but didn't say anything more again Ron's family. Considering his upbringing, Harry supposed this was as good as he was going to get. He looked around the room, trying to find something that would get them to the Burrow quickly. The only think he could think of was their brooms, and he was unwilling to risk it: he didn't think he knew the way well enough to find it on broomstick in the dark.

"Don't bother," Draco said dryly, obviously guessing Harry's train of thought. "I've been there."

Harry's eyes widened again as he turned to look at Draco. "What?"

"I _said_, I've been there. Not by choice, I assure you, but I have seen that… I have seen their home."

Harry decided not to comment on Draco's slight slip. "Can you get us there?"

"If I have to. What makes you think they'll help us?"

"The Weasleys have been more like my family than the Dursleys," Harry pointed out.

"I know they would help _you_," Draco agreed. "But, as our recent experience has taught us, those who would help you will not necessarily help _me_."

"Then we get to your aunt and uncle's house on our own," Harry snapped. "But we can't just sit here and do nothing. You said that yourself, remember?"

Draco shrugged. "If you insist. Do you have any last words to say to your… family?"

Harry grimaced. "Let's go."

Draco took Harry's hand, and Harry closed his eyes, concentrating on the Burrow. He felt the now familiar wrenching in his belly, and then heard a sharp crack. He opened his eyes, relieved to find himself standing in the Weasley's front yard. Next to him, Draco was grimacing as he looked around. Meeting Harry's eyes, the grimace turned into a wry smile. "It's better than the muggle house," he conceded.

"Or camping," Harry agreed. "Shall we let them know we've arrived?"

Draco shrugged. Taking this to mean yes, Harry began walking towards the door. Draco hesitated for a moment, then followed, walking swiftly so as to catch up. They arrived at the front door at the same time.

Harry took a deep breath and reached out to knock. His fist met empty air as the door swung open. He dropped his hand back to his side as he looked up into Mrs. Weasley's startled face.

"Hello Mrs. Weasley. Sorry to burst in on you like this, but we need to find Fred and George. Are they here?"


	10. Denied

_Author's note: I have decided that this is ridiculous: this story should not have taken _nearly_ this long to complete. So I have set a goal for myself: I will finish this story before the end of October so that it isn't weighing on my mind during NaNoWriMo. I'm not 100 percent sure I can do it, but I'm certainly going to try. So, if things go well, you should be getting rather a lot of this one over the next couple weeks. Hopefully that doesn't make you _too_ mad... I know some of you like my other stories, and they will all be continued, I promise... in December...  
Disclaimer: Wouldn't it be nice to be JK Rowling? Then I'd be rich, and famous, and done with high school... Unfortunately, I'm not, and so none of her characters belong to me. Not even a little bit. It's so depressing...  
--Tamara_

* * *

Denied

Draco might have known. He might have guessed that the old coot would pull something like this. After all, when had Dumbledore _ever_ made things easy for him? Never, that was when, not since first year, when Draco had fallen out of favor by turning Harry into an enemy. He grimaced slightly. Apparently it was too late to earn brownie points for 'good behavior.' Or maybe kissing Dumbledore's Golden Boy didn't count as good behavior.

Still, he tried, for Harry's sake, to wait. He tried for two days to give Dumbledore time, tried for two days to believe Harry's excuses for why the old man wasn't writing back. But, at the end of two days, when nothing had come back from Hogwarts, not even Harry's owl, Draco had had enough. Clearly Dumbledore didn't trust them – didn't trust _him_ – enough to answer their letter. Time was running out; they had to leave soon, if only for the sake of preserving Harry's sanity. Harry said nothing, but Draco could tell how much being in the muggle house was affecting Harry's temper and judgment. Come to think of it, it was affecting Draco as well: being under the same roof as Harry's repulsive relatives was taking its toll on Draco's ability to control both his temper and his magic. If they didn't leave soon, horrible things were going to happen to them all, and none of them would help Draco's case much.

"We have to go now."

Harry looked away from the window towards Draco. "What?"

"I said, we have to go. We can't wait for the old coot any longer. We'll have to take our chances." For once, Draco was willing to forgive Harry his need to have things explained.

Harry sighed. "Where? I don't know about you, but I don't have any other ideas."

Draco returned Harry's. "Unfortunately, neither do I." He scowled, not liking having to admit defeat. "But even you have to see that no good will come of waiting any longer."

Harry grimaced, but Draco could see that the black-haired boy knew he was right. "We don't have any alternative," Harry pointed out. "I, for one, refuse to go off and live in the wild."

Draco stared at Harry for a moment, trying to process what he'd just heard. It had _not_ been what he'd expected at _all_. Slowly, he grinned. "You've been spending _far_ too much time with me, clearly," he said. "I seem to have rubbed off on you." The Harry he'd known at the beginning of last year wouldn't have thought twice about spending days on end camping in the wilderness. Clearly associating with Draco had done him some good.

Harry scowled. "Maybe, but that doesn't change anything."

Draco didn't reply. He couldn't think about Harry's transformation now; he would have time for that later. For now, they had to find a safe haven, somewhere his father would never think to look. He closed his eyes, trying to think. There had to be _somewhere_…

Suddenly, he started. Was it possible? He considered the idea. It might actually work. It would take some more working out, but it was definitely a possibility. He opened his eyes again, just in time to see Harry open his mouth. He shook his head.

"Wait. I think I might have an idea."

"France?"

Draco smiled wryly. Harry _had_ been spending too much time with him. "Not quite." He retreated back into his thoughts, working out some of the finer points. Such as how he would contact his relatives to let them know he was coming.

"Well?"

Draco scowled, knocked once more out of his concentration. "Patience, please! Honestly, you don't know how to wait, do you?"

"No. What's your wonderful idea?"

Draco sighed, and, out of pure irritation, deliberately didn't give Harry what he was asking for. "If you must know right _now_, it involves moving in with my aunt and uncle."

Harry took the bait at face value, his eyes flying open wide in horror. "Draco, are you _out of your mind_!? They're _death eaters_, for God's sake!"

Hiding his petty satisfaction, Draco shook his head. "My _other_ aunt and uncle." _Now_ he would see how clever Harry was.

"Who?"

Not clever enough, clearly. "You know of them, at least. I know you do."

Harry scowled fiercely. "This is no time for guessing games," he snapped. "Spit it out."

"Andromeda and Ted Tonks. Ring any bells in that thick skull of yours?" Irritation and stress made Draco's tone far sharper than usual, something he regretted almost as soon as the words had left his mouth.

Harry seemed to be fighting to decide whether to be relieved or insulted. Relief lost, and he glowered at Draco. "You could have just said that in the first place," he muttered rebelliously. "You didn't have to insult me."

Draco opened his mouth for one of his automatically sharp replies, then stopped. He took a deep breath, willing the irritation to leave. It wasn't _Harry's_ fault he couldn't think as fast as Draco could. In fact, in many ways, it was one of his charms. "I'm sorry," Draco murmured. "It's just…"

Harry put a gentle hand on Draco's shoulder, cutting his words off. "Don't worry," he reassured the blond. He drew Draco into a hug, which Draco returned, relieved that Harry seemed to have forgiven him. Harry grinned and kissed Draco briefly before pulling away. "Better?"

Draco nodded, determined not to let his temper run away with him again.

"Good. Now, how can we get to your aunt and uncle's house?"

Draco frowned. _This_ was that part he'd been working on before Harry so rudely interrupted him… no. He was going to be good. This was the part he'd been thinking about before Harry asked for an explanation.. "I'm not sure. In theory I know where they live, but I've never actually been there. It's _possible_ to Apparate to a place you've never been, but…"

Harry nodded. "Now is not the time to experiment," he finished. He frowned slightly, and Draco let him think, determined not to behave badly just because Harry had. Besides, they needed all the ideas they could get. Finally, Harry sighed. "I think we'll have to ask Fred and George."

Draco frowned. "Fred and George?" Gryffindors, presumably, but which particular Gryffindors? Apart from Granger and Weasley – and Harry, naturally – Draco couldn't keep any of them straight.

"Ron's brothers."

Draco scowled. "What can _they_ do to help?" he demanded forgetting his resolve not to behave badly. Asking help from the Weasleys – _any _Weasleys – was far, _far_ worse than appealing to Dumbledore.

Harry scowled back, unimpressed by Draco's words. "Cut it out," he ordered. "The Weasleys are my friends, and I'll thank you not to insult him."

Draco shrugged, holding onto his temper as hard as he could. They were both tired and stressed, he repeated over and over again to himself. Harry just didn't see how it felt for him, Draco, to be forced to ask for help from the Weasleys. How could he understand? His upbringing had been totally different from Draco's, after all.

Draco glanced up at Harry, only to find him eyeing the two broomsticks dubiously. He sighed slightly to himself. Time to stop being a git and start helping again.

"Don't bother. I've been there."

Harry's eyes widened once more, and he turned to stare at Draco. "What?"

There was something grimly humorous in Harry's astonishment. "I _said_, I've been there. Not by choice, I assure you, but I have seen that…" he stopped, reminding himself not to insult Harry's friends. He tried again. "I have seen their home."

Harry didn't seem to notice the slip. "Can you get us there?"

Draco sighed. "If I have to. What makes you think they'll help us?"

"The Weasleys have been more like my family than the Dursleys," Harry pointed out.

"I know they would help _you_," Draco agreed. "But, as our recent experience has taught us, those who would help you will not necessarily help _me_." He didn't want to have to deal either with being rejected again and losing precious time, or with Harry's reactions if Weasel's family refused them. He already knew how hard it would be for Harry to forgive Dumbledore; he didn't want the Weasleys on his conscience either, for all that they were beneath him. Harry cared for them, and that was what mattered. He would be damned if he would be the ruin of that relationship.

"Then we get to your aunt and uncle's house on our own," Harry snapped. "But we can't just sit here and do nothing. You said that yourself, remember?"

Draco shrugged. If Harry wanted to risk it, Draco was in no position to object. Besides, he wanted to get out of the muggle house as quickly as possible. "If you insist. Do you have any last words to say to your… family?"

Harry grimaced. "Let's go."

Draco took Harry's hand, calling up old memories of the Weasley's hovel. He hadn't wanted to go, but his father had had to go for some obscure reason to stay in favor with the minister, and he insisted Draco go along. Then, he'd sulked the entire way and been sullen for weeks afterwards. Now, he was grateful: it allowed him to do this the easy way, instead of trusting his skills far more than he was ready to. Taking a deep breath, he gave the silent command.

As it had before, the world disintegrated with a sharp tug, reassembling to form an overgrown garden in front of a rickety house. Well, at least it was _supposed_ to be a house. He grimaced as he looked at it. Harry caught his eyes warningly, and Draco shrugged, turning his grimaced into a wry smile. "It's better than the muggle house," he conceded. Of course, just about anything would be better than the muggle house.

"Or camping," Harry agreed, his own lips twitching into a matching smile before relaxing back into wariness. "Shall we let them know we've arrived?"

Draco shrugged. Harry apparently took this as agreement, because he began striding confidently towards the door. Left without another alternative, Draco followed, quickening his pace so as to catch up to Harry just as the latter reached the front door. Harry glanced once at him, took a deep breath, and raised his hand to knock. The door swung open before he got the chance, and Harry frowned. He dropped his hand back to his side and looked up. Draco too examined the woman in the door. She was shorter than his mother and far more substantial, with robes so faded as to be almost colorless. He felt himself start to sneer, then caught himself. He was _not_ going to insult these people, even if it killed him. They were Harry's friends and, if Harry was right, they were the only people who could help them. He would have to keep his opinions private.

Harry nodded briefly at the startled woman. "Hello Mrs. Weasley. Sorry to burst in on you like this, but we need to find Fred and George. Are they here?"


	11. Brilliant

_Author's note: this was fun! it's one of our patented 'in which many witty things are said and very little is done' chapters. we like them far too much, and fred and george are entertaining to work with. draco is too, of course, but he doesn't have a twin, so he can't bounce back and forth like fred and george do! -grins-  
Disclaimer: if it's midnight here, then it's seven in the morning in england, where JK Rowling lives. if she's clever, she'll be asleep. i'm not. therefore, i cannot be her.  
--kyra_

* * *

Brilliant

"Hello Mrs. Weasley. Sorry to burst in on you like this, but we need to find Fred and George. Are they here?"

Mrs. Weasley stared at Harry for a long moment, then shifted her gaze to Draco. She frowned, badly trying to conceal her shock. Harry scowled, tired of everyone's prejudices against Draco. He conveniently forgot that, until recently, he had shared those prejudices.

"Yes it's Draco. Yes he's with me. No we don't hate each other. Yes it's a long story. Yes we're in trouble. Are Fred and George there?"

Mrs. Weasley stared for a moment longer, than seemed to regain her customary composure. "Come in. Fred and George are in their room. I'll go call them. You two can sit in the living room, if you like." She turned and bustled off, leaving Harry and Draco on the doorstep.

"That was friendly," Draco commented dryly.

Harry sighed. "I should have expected that," he muttered. "It's not like your family and Ron's are on very good terms, after all." He crossed the threshold into the house, Draco trailing behind him. They saw no one as they made their way towards the living room, which was odd. There were so many Weasleys living in the house that they should have met at least _one_ of them. Harry frowned. "I wonder where everyone is."

Draco shrugged. "I can only assume they have more important things to do."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

Draco snorted. "You really _must_ stop spending so much time around me," he drawled. "It's staining your flawless Gryffindor character."

Harry eyed him with no little amusement. "You can't have it both ways," he informed his love. "Either you keep me with you and don't let me out of your sight, or you banish me for the sake of my character."

Draco shrugged. "Were I a good person, I would choose the latter. As it is…" he let the sentence trail off, and Harry grinned.

"Then it's a good thing you're in Slytherin, isn't it? You would never have made it in Gryffindor. Self-sacrifice is one of our prime virtues."

"So I've gathered," Draco agreed dryly. "Though many of you seem to take that to extremes."

Harry shrugged. "You're saying that there aren't Slytherins who go in the other direction?"

Draco shrugged back. "No one's perfect," he conceded. "But many of us get fairly close."

Harry snorted. "That's what you think. I know a good many people, starting with everyone in this house, who would disagree."

"Their loss."

"Don't tell them that."

"Don't tell us what?"

Both Harry and Draco turned to find Fred and George leaning against opposite sides of the doorframe wearing identical expressions on their faces.

"Mum said you wanted us," Fred explained.

"She didn't seem terribly coherent," George added.

"Mind telling us what's going on?"

"And what you need us for?"

Draco grimaced. "Do they always do that?" he murmured to Harry.

Harry glanced at him. "Do what?"

"Take turns. It's extremely disconcerting."

"They're twins. What do you expect?"

"Some semblance of coherency, at least."

"Sorry." Harry turned back to Fred and George, who hadn't moved. He sighed. "It's complicated," he warned.

"When is it not, with you?" Fred demanded. "Go on, spill. We won't help you unless we know what it is you want us to do."

Harry shrugged. "You asked for it," he said, then launched into a detailed description of their current problem, doing his best to leave out his relationship with Draco. He didn't know if the twins were ready for that.

Unfortunately for him, Fred and George were no fools. "And him?" George asked, nodding at Draco. "Where does he come into the story?"

"Apart from the fact that it's his father chasing you, of course," Fred clarified.

"Exactly," George agreed, nodding at Fred. "More specifically, what kind of…

"Partnership," Fred supplied.

"Partnership have the two of you formed without us to keep an eye on you."

"Though we think we can guess," Fred added, looking from Harry to Draco.

"Then why bother asking?" Draco demanded.

"Because we like seeing you squirm," was the prompt reply. They both turned their eyes on Harry. "Well?"

Harry shrugged. "What do you want me to say?" he demanded.

George rolled his eyes. "Have you shagged him yet?"

"No."

"Do you have plans to do so in the near future?"

"Probably not."

"Were you planning on shagging Gin before you got… involved with him?"

"_No!_"

"Good." Fred nodded his satisfaction. "Otherwise we might have to hurt you, and that would make Ron sad."

"And we wouldn't want to do that," Fred put in.

Draco scowled. "Can we please get back to the actual _point_ of this conversation?"

Fred and George looked at each other. "I wasn't aware that this conversation _had_ a point," George commented.

"That's because we got sidetracked by Harry and Malfoy's… relationship," Fred reminded him.

"Ah, of course." They both turned to look at the younger boys. "So, why exactly do you need our help?"

"We need to get to Tonks' parents house," Harry said bluntly. "And we need to get there as soon as possible."

Fred nodded. "I see. So you came to us? Why?"

"If anyone can yet us there, it's you two. Don't tell me you haven't invented some kind of Apparating device or something."

Fred and George exchanged another look. "Can we trust them?" George asked.

"It _is_ Harry," Fred pointed out.

"Yeah, but what about _him_?" George demanded, nodding at Draco.

"I have a name," Draco muttered darkly.

The twins ignored him. "We _would_ be one-upping the bastard," Fred said pensively. "That would be worth it."

"True," George agreed. "And it would give us an opportunity to test the things…"

They nodded, then turned back to face Harry and Draco. "We'll do it," Fred proclaimed. "C'mon."

"Where are we going?" Draco demanded warily.

"To our shop, of course," George said. "You think we keep merchandise _here_? Mum would throw it out like a shot!"

Draco grimaced slightly, but didn't comment further, only stood up and shook his robes into some semblance of order. Harry followed suit, not caring about the state of his robes. He looked at Fred and George. "Floo Powder? I can't Apparate, and Draco's never been there."

Fred and George glanced at each other, then shook their heads. "Don't bother. We'll go side-along." They moved towards the two, George heading for Harry and Fred towards Draco. Draco eyed the tall redhead with no little disgust, but he refrained from commenting.

Fred and George each grasped one of their passenger's hands, then grinned. Without any further ceremony, the world disappeared around them, reforming moments later into the back of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Fred and Draco immediately moved away from each other.

George beckoned for them to follow. He led them even farther into the shop, then down a concealed set of stairs into a dark room. A rapid spell lit the chandelier.

"This is our workshop," Fred proclaimed.

"We don't let just anyone down here," George added. "You two should feel honored."

"I can hardly believe my luck," Draco muttered dryly. Harry scowled at him.

"So what is it that you have for us?" Harry asked, turning his attention back to the twins.

Fred moved to one of the shelves and removed a small bag. He tossed it to George, who caught it deftly. George motioned the two closer and upended the bag into his palm. Four small silver balls rolled into his hand.

"These," George proclaimed, "are our newest invention: apparating apparatuses."

"They haven't been completely tested yet," Fred added, appearing at George's shoulder. "But we're 96 percent sure they're safe, give or take a couple percentage points."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "96 percent certain?" he asked. "Why not 100?"

"We haven't tested them on anyone but us first," George explained. "They work fine for us, but we don't know if they have adverse effects on anyone else."

"Nasty side-effects, for instance," Fred clarified.

"Yet you're still offering them to us?" Harry wanted to know.

George nodded. "If you agree to be our testers."

"What would that entail?" Draco demanded.

"Not much." Fred assured him. "You'd just have to write to us when you get to Tonks' parents house to let us know how it worked."

That reminded Harry that Hedwig was still missing, and he grimaced. Well, she was clever. She'd find him eventually, and, anyway, he had other ways of communicating. Still, it was unnerving, to be cut off from communicating with his friends like that.

"We'll take them," Harry proclaimed. "How do they work?"

* * *

_Author's note 2: Attentive readers may remember apparating apparatuses from _Emeral Fog_. I was too lazy to invent another device for the twins to use, and it works perfectly well for the purposes of this story. For a full description, you can check in chapter... um... 2 or 3 of _Emerald_, but you shouldn't need to. I'll explain them more in the next Harry chapter.  
--Tamara_


	12. Dubious

_Author's note: wow, this chapter makes harry seem like a real jerk. which he is, of course, but even so... (being very good and not saying anything more so as not to ruin it for you!)  
Disclaimer: i'm not jk rowling, much as i would wish to be. then, on the other hand, she gets far, far too much attention from the press these days. maybe it's better just to borrow (read: steal -grins-) her characters and tweak (read: corrupt) them until they fit my purposes (read: devious schemes). XD  
--kyra_

* * *

Dubious

"Hello Mrs. Weasley. Sorry to burst in on you like this, but we need to find Fred and George. Are they here?"

Mrs. Weasley's eyes widened as she looked at them. Draco didn't bother wondering what she was thinking: it was fairly obvious from the way her eyes shifted uncomfortably between the two of them. He scowled slightly gritting his teeth. Harry. He had to concentrate on Harry. That was why they were here. The… female's opinions didn't matter.

Harry sighed impatiently. "Yes it's Draco. Yes he's with me. No we don't hate each other. Yes it's a long story. Yes we're in trouble. Are Fred and George there?"

Draco raised an eyebrow at this blunt description of their circumstances, but refrained from commenting. Mrs. Weasley, in her turn, seemed to need longer to comprehend the situation. She goggled at the two of them for a long moment, then abruptly blinked and regained her composure. "Come in. Fred and George are in their room. I'll go call them. You two can sit in the living room, if you like." She vanished into her hope, leaving Harry and Draco standing on the doorstep, looking at each other.

"That was friendly," Draco commented dryly.

Harry sighed. "I should have expected that," he muttered. "It's not like your family and Ron's are on very good terms, after all." He stepped through the door, and Draco followed, trying not to look anywhere but right in front of him.

Harry frowned as they reached what might charitably be called a living room. "I wonder where everyone is."

Draco shrugged, trying to indicate his total lack of interest in the location of any and all Weasleys. "I can only assume they have more important things to do."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

Draco snorted. "You really _must_ stop spending so much time around me," he drawled. "It's staining your flawless Gryffindor character." He remembered that day last year when Harry had admitted that he'd almost been in Slytherin; it truly was a shame that Harry hadn't accepted the hat's proposal: he would have made a good Slytherin, with some training.

Harry eyed him with no little amusement, possibly thinking of the same event. "You can't have it both ways," he informed Draco dryly. "Either you keep me with you and don't let me out of your sight, or you banish me for the sake of my character."

Draco shrugged, fighting back a grin. "Were I a good person, I would choose the latter. As it is…" he let the sentence trail off, and Harry grinned.

"Then it's a good thing you're in Slytherin, isn't it? You would never have made it in Gryffindor. Self-sacrifice is one of our prime virtues."

"So I've gathered," Draco agreed dryly. "Though many of you seem to take that to extremes." Including Harry.

Harry shrugged. "You're saying that there aren't Slytherins who go in the other direction?"

Draco shrugged back. "No one's perfect," he conceded. "But many of us get fairly close."

Harry snorted. "That's what you think. I know a good many people, starting with everyone in this house, who would disagree."

"Their loss."

"Don't tell them that."

"Don't tell us what?"

They both whirled. Two identical Weasleys lounged expertly against the doorframe, eyeing Harry and Draco with mild amusement. Draco supposed that they were the twins. He eyed them critically, wondering if they really would be any help.

"Mum said you wanted us," the one on the right explained.

"She didn't seem terribly coherent," the other one added.

"Mind telling us what's going on?"

"And what you need us for?"

Draco grimaced. Their habit of speaking in tandem would get very annoying very quickly. "Do they always do that?" he murmured to Harry.

Harry glanced at him. "Do what?" Maybe he wouldn't do will in Slytherin after all. Slytherins were expected to use their brains, when they had them. Some of them didn't. Harry did; he just didn't use it.

"Take turns. It's extremely disconcerting."

"They're twins. What do you expect?"

"Some semblance of coherency, at least."

"Sorry." Without another glance, Harry turned back to the Weasley clones. "It's complicated," he warned.

"When is it not, with you?" one of them demanded. "Go on, spill. We won't help you unless we know what it is you want us to do."

Harry shrugged. "You asked for it," he said, then launched into a detailed description of their current problem. Draco noted, with no little acidity, that Harry did his best to write him out of the narrative completely. Draco did his best not to feel hurt by that, but it stung more than a little.

The clones weren't fooled, though, and they both gifted Harry with skeptically raised eyebrows. "And him?" left clone asked, nodding at Draco. "Where does he come into the story?"

"Apart from the fact that it's his father chasing you, of course," right clone clarified.

"Exactly," left agreed, nodding at right. "More specifically, what kind of…

"Partnership," right supplied.

"Partnership have the two of you formed without us to keep an eye on you."

"Though we think we can guess," left added, looking from Harry to Draco.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Then why bother asking?" Apparently stating the obvious was a Gryffindor trait.

"Because we like seeing you squirm," was the prompt reply. They both turned their eyes on Harry. "Well?" Much as he disliked them, Draco had to admire their form. When they weren't wasting breath stating the obvious, they were actually somewhat capable of decent retorts. Not, of course, that he would ever say that. Being with Harry might have changed some of his views, but the core ones remained, and distaining all things Weasley was one that would not be easily shaken.

Harry shrugged. "What do you want me to say?" he demanded.

Right rolled his eyes. "Have you shagged him yet?"

"No."

"Do you have plans to do so in the near future?"

"Probably not."

"Were you planning on shagging Gin before you got… involved with him?" Draco couldn't help moving a step closer there, glowering possessively at the two clones. Harry was _his_, not the Weasleyette's!

"_No!_"

"Good." left nodded his satisfaction. "Otherwise we might have to hurt you, and that would make Ron sad."

"And we wouldn't want to do that," right put in.

Draco scowled, eager to move the conversation away from either the Weasleyette or threats of harm to Harry. "Can we please get back to the actual _point_ of this conversation?"

The two clones looked at each other, eyebrows raised. "I wasn't aware that this conversation _had_ a point," right commented.

"That's because we got sidetracked by Harry and Malfoy's… relationship," left reminded him.

"Ah, of course." They both turned to look at Harry and Draco "So, why exactly do you need our help?"

"We need to get to Tonks' parents house," Harry said bluntly. "And we need to get there as soon as possible."

Left nodded as though this made perfect sense. "I see. So you came to us? Why?"

"If anyone can yet us there, it's you two. Don't tell me you haven't invented some kind of Apparating device or something."

The clones exchanged another look. "Can we trust them?" right asked.

"It _is_ Harry," left pointed out.

"Yeah, but what about _him_?" right demanded, nodding at Draco.

"I have a name," Draco muttered darkly. Not that he expected it to make much difference. Still, _some_ recognition would be nice. Even his surname would do. At least he gifted the clones with that much, though they didn't deserve it.

The clones ignored him, of course. "We _would_ be one-upping the bastard," left said pensively. "That would be worth it." Draco wondered briefly who the bastard was. His father? That would be nice, though slightly disturbing, in the sense that it meant he was on the same side as the Weasleys. What was it Harry liked to say? 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend?' Something like that. He didn't want to be friends with any Weasleys. Hell, he didn't even want to be on the same _side_ as them. But he supposed they were a better alternative than his father. He would have to live with it.

"True," right agreed. "And it would give us an opportunity to test the things…"

They nodded, then turned back to face Harry and Draco. "We'll do it," left proclaimed. "C'mon."

"Where are we going?" Draco demanded warily. He might have to be on the same side as them, but he didn't trust them, even if Harry did.

"To our shop, of course," right said. "You think we keep merchandise _here_? Mum would throw it out like a shot!"

Draco grimaced slightly, but didn't comment further, only stood up and shook his robes into some semblance of order. He had his pride, after all! Harry followed suit, not caring about the state of his robes. He looked at the clones. "Floo Powder? I can't Apparate, and Draco's never been there." No, and he'd hoped never to have to go, either.

The clones glanced at each other, then shook their heads. "Don't bother. We'll go side-along." They moved towards the two, right heading for Harry and left towards Draco. Draco realized with a slight sinking in his stomach that this meant he would actually have to touch a Weasley. He grimaced, but did his best not to shy away. Harry. He was doing this for Harry. He had to remember that.

The clones, securely attached to their passengers, grinned at each other and dissaparated. Draco groaned slightly as they reappeared: he _hated_ side-along. Left scowled at him and let go, moving back towards his clone. Draco went to stand next to Harry.

Right beckoned for them to follow. With no few misgivings, Draco trailed behind Harry, a sharp eye out for anything that might be dangerous. He didn't really think the clones would deliberately try to harm them – at least, they wouldn't try to harm Harry – but you never knew. He'd gotten this far by being cautious; it seemed more than foolish to give it up now.

They were led down a staircase and into a dark room. Draco tensed as the clones lit the chandelier, his hand gripping his wand.

"This is our workshop," left proclaimed proudly.

"We don't let just anyone down here," right added. "You two should feel honored."

"I can hardly believe my luck," Draco muttered dryly. Harry scowled at him. Draco scowled back, wondering when Harry was going to remember that he was supposed to be _Draco's_ boyfriend, not the clones', and start taking his side again. Didn't Harry realize how much Draco had already conceded just be agreeing to come here?

"So what is it that you have for us?" Harry asked, turning his attention back to the clones. He didn't seem to notice Draco's glower, which only made it darken.

Left moved to one of the shelves and removed a small bag. He tossed it to right, who caught it deftly. Right motioned them closer and upended the bag into his palm. Four small silver balls rolled into his hand. Draco's eyebrows rose as he saw them: he knew enough about magical items to know that there were some serious spells on the silver orbs. He wondered what they were meant to do.

"These," right proclaimed, inadvertently answering Draco's question, "are our newest invention: apparating apparatuses."

"They haven't been completely tested yet," left added, appearing at right's shoulder. "But we're 96 percent sure they're safe, give or take a couple percentage points."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "96 percent certain?" he asked. "Why not 100?" His slight respect for the clones vanished. Even idiots would know better than to sell unsafe products to people, even if they were only 4 percent short of completely secure.

"We haven't tested them on anyone but us first," right explained, shrugging slightly. "They work fine for us, but we don't know if they have adverse effects on anyone else."

"Nasty side-effects, for instance," left clarified.

"Yet you're still offering them to us?" Harry wanted to know. Draco nodded. Finally, Harry had taken his side on something! Though, unfortunately, Draco doubted that Harry realized the significance of the event.

Right nodded. "If you agree to be our testers."

Draco glanced at Harry to see if he would object. He didn't seem about to. Draco sighed. "What would that entail?"

"Not much," left assured him. "You'd just have to write to us when you get to Tonks' parents house to let us know how it worked."

Harry grimaced slightly, though Draco wasn't quite sure at what. Then, he shook his head, possibly to clear it, and proclaimed, "We'll take them. How do they work?" He didn't look at Draco to see if this was all right with him.

* * *

_Author's note 2: _**In case that got confusing to anyone, the left "clone" is Fred, and the right "clone" is George.  
--Caroline**


	13. Andromeda

_Author's note: Okay, this chapter was _very_ hard to write, and the next will be even harder. I hope you will understand why after you read it. Just know that I have no control over what they do anymore. None of this is my choice. It's theirs, and I don't like it any more than you do.  
Disclaimer: JK Rowling's romance stories all worked out. It's not fair!  
--Tamara_

* * *

Andromeda

Despite their rather pathetic O.W.L. scores, the twins really knew their stuff when it came to their products. They guided Harry and Draco through the procedure efficiently and professionally, giving both boys a very clear picture of what to expect. They were to tap the silver things with their wands, speak their destination loudly and clearly, and swallow. That was all. They were _not_, and the twins were very clear on this point, to try any spells while still 'under the influence' of the apparatuses.

Harry did his best to take it all in. By the time they were done, his head was spinning slightly, and he was eyeing the silver balls with considerably more respect. He didn't have to be a genius or a great wizard to know that the twins had created something extraordinary.

He shot a glance at Draco, only to find the blond boy standing rigidly away from Harry, his eyes fixed on the apparatuses. Well, that was only to be expected: being here was bound to be uncomfortable for Draco. It would be better once they'd arrived at Tonks' parents' house.

George handed them each a silver apparatus. "Don't forget," he warned, stepping back to rejoin Fred. "You owe us a report of how it goes."

Harry nodded. "We'll do it. And thanks. For everything."

Fred grinned. "Thank us afterwards," he advised. "When you're sure there won't be any side-effects."

They vanished with identical cracks, leaving Harry and Draco alone in the workshop. Harry glanced at Draco. "Shall we?"

Draco shrugged stiffly. "You're in charge here."

Harry frowned. "What's wrong with _you_?" he demanded.

Draco shrugged again. "Me? Nothing at all. Shall we get on with it? I would rather be safe sooner rather than later." He fished his wand out, still not looking at Harry, and tapped his apparatus. "We're going to 17 Cloister Road, London." He swallowed it and vanished. Harry looked at the place he'd been moments before, frowning. What was wrong with Draco? Then he shook his head. He would figure it out later. For now, he had a safe-house to find. _Then_ he could deal with his boyfriend's bizarre mood-swings.

He tapped his own apparatus, speaking his destination loudly and clearly, just as he'd been instructed to. With a slightly dubious glance at it, he popped it into his mouth and swallowed, grimacing more out of reflex than because of the taste. In all truth, it didn't actually taste all that bad, but he'd grown up with vile-tasting pills, and so he was accustomed to making faces as he took them.

He appeared in a neat kitchen. Draco was already there, as was a tall brown-haired woman. Harry tensed as he saw her, his wand out in a flash. It couldn't be! But it had to be! It had all been a trap! He tensed as Bellatrix Lestrange eyed him scornfully.

"Tell your little Gryffindor that I don't bite," she told Draco.

Draco glared at Harry. "What exactly do you think you're doing?" he snapped.

Harry looked from Draco to Bellatrix, suddenly unsure of himself. Had it all been a trick? Had Draco been planning this all along? Suddenly he wasn't sure, and the emotion filled him with a kind of sick terror. "What… Draco?"

Draco frowned at his reaction, then looked at Bellatrix. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he moved swiftly to Harry's side. "It's all right!" he assured Harry urgently. "Harry, it's not her! Listen to me, it's not Bellatrix."

"Of course it is," Harry croaked. His voice hardly sounded like his own as his inner self demanded to know why he was just standing there.

"No, it's not. Harry, look at her! This is Andromeda. Please, just look. Let yourself see. You're safe. Harry, damn it, _it's not her_!"

Despite himself, Harry looked, and, as he looked, he realized that Draco was right. Bellatrix had black hair; this woman's hair was brown. Bellatrix's eyes shone with hard cruelty; this woman's merely reflected anger. Bellatrix would have attacked him on sight; this woman only eyed him mockingly as she waited for him to regain his senses. Slowly, he took a deep breath, his wand falling to his side. He did not offer an explanation, nor did he look at Draco.

Draco, however, glanced up at Bella… at Andromeda. "He had a bad experience with your sister," he explained shortly.

"So I gathered," Andromeda agreed dryly. "Does it have anything to do with why you two have suddenly appeared in my kitchen?"

Draco shrugged. "Indirectly."

"Go on. I'm waiting for an explanation."

Draco, with a glance at Harry, gave her one, not stinting on any of the details, not even the ones that included himself and Harry. Harry could barely look at Andromeda as he listened; he focused his attention on the floor instead, and used his ears to gauge her reaction.

She didn't _sound_ shocked, at least. She only remarked, "You certainly go for the whole show, don't you. Though, I suppose it's only to be expected, considering your companion."

Draco snorted and didn't answer.

She shifted her weight slightly. "So why exactly did you come to me?"

"My father won't look here," Draco told her bluntly. "And we needed a place to hide."

"So you came to me and endangered my family." She sounded like she was getting angry.

"Yes."

"Even though you know how hard I've worked to distance myself from all… this."

"Yes."

"And you have no excuses? No peace offerings? No payment?"

"No."

There was a long pause – one that was far _too_ long as far as Harry was concerned – and then she began to laugh. Despite himself, he looked up, startled. Why was she laughing? Surely there wasn't anything funny in this! He gripped his wand again, just in case. If she was going to attack, he wanted to be ready.

"Oh that is just _brilliant_! Do you have _any_ idea of the risks you took getting here? Not to mention the ones that you took just by escaping my brother-in-law?"

Draco scowled. "Please explain yourself," he said coldly, his words clipped and under iron control.

She surveyed them closely. "No, you don't, do you? I'm surprised at you. I would have thought _you_, at least, would have more sense than that." She nodded at Draco, whose scowl deepened.

"That's not what I asked," Draco snapped, his voice icy. "I _asked_ you to explain yourself."

Andromeda's eyebrows rose. "You got that from my sister," she remarked idly.

Draco's teeth clenched, and she laughed again. Then she sobered, looking at the two of them.

"You want answers?"

Draco nodded tightly.

"Answer you won't like?"

Draco's smile was crooked and humorless. "Are there any other kind?"

She laughed again. "Perhaps not. Come with me." Without a second glance, she turned and walked out of the kitchen, expecting them to follow. They did, though Harry's scowl deepened considerably as he did so. Part of it was directed at Draco. Draco was entirely too comfortable here. He bantered back and forth with his aunt as though they had all the time in the world. Didn't they _realize_ how precious their time really was? Why did they bother with witty repartee when they could be doing more important things, such as making plans for how to survive the near future?

Andromeda glanced back and met his eye. She raised an eyebrow and turned her glance towards Draco. "You should see to your Gryffindor," she advised. "He's getting antsy."

Draco shot a glower at Harry, his eyes hard. "He's not _my_ Gryffindor, and he's quite capable of looking after himself."

Harry stared at Draco in shock, wondering, for one wild moment, whether it really was Draco. The Draco he'd come to know would never say that… would he? No, of course not! The Draco he knew craved reassurance and approval. He would never write off their relationship like that… would he? Yet, as Harry gazed at Draco, he realized, with a much larger sinking feeling, that it really was Draco. It was Draco who was saying those things to him, and Draco who was looking coldly at him, and Draco who was turning away with a jerky, angry motion. It was like last year, only worse. Last year, at least there had been pain to go with the rejection. This was just rejection, nothing more.

Andromeda's eyebrows were raised as she looked from Harry to Draco. She shook her head. "You two are dealing with this one on your own," she informed them. "But please refrain from cursing each other in my house. You can go into the backyard if you wish – it's muggle-proof and concealed from the Ministry – but if you destroy any of my furniture, I _will_ turn you out onto the streets. God strike me down if I lie."

"That won't be necessary," Draco said stiffly. "We won't be requiring room to duel."

"You say that now," she muttered. "But, who am I to understand young love? You two will have to settle this by yourselves."

"We will," Draco informed her. "We never asked you for advice. As I recall, you were going to tell us why we're stupid for coming here."

"So I was," she agreed. "Well, come on then." She started walking again, and the two started following, carefully not looking at each other. Harry felt a numbness begin to settle into his chest, one that promised to stay for quite a long time.

Andromeda led them into a well furnished sitting room. They took armchairs at opposite ends of the room, not looking at each other. She pretended not to notice. Instead, she seated herself on the emerald-colored sofa in the center.

"If I've got the story right, you two escaped from my sister's house in the dead of night and have been running ever since, yes?"

Draco nodded.

"And my brother-in-law doesn't seem to have found you yet?"

Shake.

"And from that, you assume that he won't ever find you?"

"We assume that he's still looking."

She shook her head. "You assume wrong. He knows."

Harry's eyes flew wide open and he fixed her with a death glare. She met his gaze squarely. "And he doesn't know from me, I assure you. Slytherin I might be; Death Eater I am not. Don't forget, it was _my_ cousin that they killed two years ago. If I ever had any sympathies in that direction, they vanished when he did."

Cousin. Oh, right. Sirius. The pain of the loss hit Harry once more, but it was a duller pain, one that couldn't penetrate the soul-deep pain he already felt. There just wasn't room in him for it to hurt any more.

"Go on," Draco urged after a moment.

"As I was saying, he learned you were bound here. I can only assume he was eavesdropping; it seems like his style." Draco's lips twisted into a bitter smile, confirming her words. "He will arrive here shortly, almost certainly with his master alongside him. Once again, I would ask that you do any fighting outside of my house."

Harry stared at her. He couldn't believe this woman! A _war_ was being fought here, and all she cared about was her décor. "Aren't there more important things to be worrying about?" he demanded sharply.

She didn't look at him. "Perhaps. But my house will be here long after the Dark Lord is gone, and the bills for repairing it won't go away. My mother wrote me out of the Black family fortune when she wrote me out of her will, you know."

Harry ignored this. "It's _still_ not important," he insisted.

"On the contrary, it's extremely important. But you won't understand, not until you grow older and have a home of your own. Then you'll realize." She turned her head back towards Draco, signaling the end of the conversation. "Do you have a plan?"

Draco shook his head. "Not as such, no."

She sighed. "Are your next words going to be a plea for help?"

"Of course not!"

"Oh?'

"Well… not a plea, as such. You should know better than that."

"So I do. Well, whether you phrase it as a plea or not, my answer remains the same: no. You will do your own fighting."

"So why did you even bother helping us?" Harry demanded bitterly. "All you're doing is prophesizing doom and gloom and then refusing to help us."

"May I remind you that it was _you_ who appeared in my kitchen, not the other way around?"

"That doesn't change anything. There isn't any middle ground anymore. You're either with us, or you're a Death Eater. That's all there is to it."

She shrugged. "Have it as you will. My answer remains unchanged."

Draco stood. "Well, then we won't impose on you any longer." He turned to go, only glancing momentarily towards Harry before forcing his eyes away. Harry stayed where he was, his eyes fixed on Andromeda.

She finally met his gaze, and her eyes softened just a touch. "Remember that you aren't alone. You don't have to face him on your own."

Harry's eyes were glacial as he stared at her. "Yes," he said flatly. "I do."


	14. Family Ties

_Author's note: more from us at the end of the chapter, we promise!  
Disclaimer: are harry and draco a couple in the actual books? -grins-  
--kyra

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_

Family ties

The Weasley clones explained everything quickly, for which Draco was grateful. He had too much to think about already without having to sift through tedious layers of information to find what really mattered. Harry glanced at Draco, who avoided his gaze. He wasn't ready to forgive Harry his transgressions; not yet. They would have to have a long conversation, and possibly a few days apart before Draco would get lonely enough to do that. He winced internally at the pain that that would bring but, if there was one thing his father had managed to teach him, it was that pain is part of life and must be endured. He would endure this. He must. There really was no other way.

The right clone tossed them each one of the orbs. Draco eyed it slightly dubiously, but refrained from speaking. "Don't forget," right clone warned, stepping back to rejoin left. "You owe us a report of how it goes."

Harry nodded. "We'll do it. And thanks. For everything."

Left grinned a tad crookedly. "Thank us afterwards," he advised. "When you're sure there won't be any side-effects."

They vanished with identical cracks, leaving Harry and Draco alone in the workshop. Draco stepped slightly away from Harry, leaving the other boy in no doubt that he was out of favor. Harry glanced at him in surprise, obviously not understanding the reason for this sudden coldness. Draco ignored him. "Shall we?" Harry asked after a moment, when it became clear that Draco was not going to say anything

Draco shrugged stiffly. "You're in charge here."

Harry frowned. "What's wrong with _you_?" he demanded.

Draco shrugged again. He supposed that he should be more communicative here, but, honestly, couldn't Harry figure it out for himself? The Gryffindor wasn't _that_ thick… was he? Unfortunately, it rather seemed like he was. Draco grimaced. Well, he _still_ wasn't going to say anything. They would talk later, when they were somewhere safe. For now, all he had to do was feign normalcy. "Me? Nothing at all. Shall we get on with it? I would rather be safe sooner rather than later." He fished his wand out, still not looking at Harry, and tapped his apparatus. "We're going to 17 Cloister Road, London." He swallowed the silver apparatus and felt the familiar disintegrating feeling. He closed his eyes as he landed, then opened them to find himself standing in a pristine kitchen, facing a fierce woman with a wand.

"Am I to assume that you are Andromeda?" he queried, eyeing the wand warily. If she was his mother's sister, then there was a good chance that she knew how to cast some _very_ nasty curses.

"Maybe," she replied cautiously. "Who would you be, and, more importantly, what are you doing in my kitchen?"

He relaxed slightly. If she were planning on cursing him, she would have done it already. He allowed himself to glance away from the wand and up to the woman herself. He nodded. It had to be Andromeda; no one else could look that much like his Aunt Bellatrix.

"I'm Narcissa's son," Draco said bluntly.

Her eyebrows shot up and she examined him closely. Slowly, she murmured, "Yes, yes I can see her in you."

Draco scowled. He didn't like being compared to his parents, either of them. She caught the expression, and flashed him a half smile. "I said you _looked_ like her, not that you _acted_ like her," she assured him.

Draco nodded stiffly, wondering where Harry was. He couldn't have gotten the address wrong. Not even Harry was that thick… right?

"Waiting for someone?" Andromeda asked.

Draco glanced up at her, then away. 'She'll have to know,' he reminded himself. 'He's going to appear in her bloody kitchen, for God's sake!' "I'm waiting for Harry Potter," he told her bluntly.

Her reaction impressed him: nothing more than a pair of raised eyebrows betrayed her surprise. "Oh? And does my sister know that you are on speaking terms with him?"

Draco shrugged. "I have no idea, though I'd rather you not tell her."

Andromeda grimaced. "Need I remind you that I have not spoken to my sister in years?"

"Then there shouldn't be any problems not telling her."

She opened her mouth to answer, but Harry appeared in the kitchen just at that moment. He looked up, then froze. His was flew to his hand, and he crouched, glaring poisonously at Andromeda.

"Tell your little Gryffindor that I don't bite," Andromeda advised Draco dryly.

Draco glared at Harry, wondering just what he was playing at. "What exactly do you think you're doing?" he snapped.

Harry's gaze flickered rapidly between Draco and Andromeda, the expression in his eyes moving from confusion to disbelief to betrayal. "What… Draco?"

Draco frowned. What was going on here? He looked back at Andromeda, wondering just what had set Harry off. Suddenly, his eyes widened. Of course! Harry had never seen her before, but he had seen her sister. He stepped hastily over to Harry's side. "It's all right!" he assured Harry urgently. "Harry, it's not her! Listen to me, it's not Bellatrix."

"Of course it is," Harry croaked. He sounded as though he were trying to decide whether to be terrified, pain-filler, or furious.

Draco tried again. "No, it's not. Harry, look at her! This is Andromeda. Please, just look. Let yourself see. You're safe. Harry, damn it, _it's not her_!" He shifted his weight slightly, hoping that that was enough to get through to Harry.

Harry didn't move for a very long time. Finally, he relaxed, letting his wand hand drop back to his side. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He didn't look at Draco.

Draco glanced up into Andromeda's questioning gaze. "He had a bad experience with your sister," he explained shortly.

"So I gathered," Andromeda agreed dryly. "Does it have anything to do with why you two have suddenly appeared in my kitchen?"

Draco shrugged. "Indirectly."

"Go on. I'm waiting for an explanation."

Draco took a deep breath and began to explain, leaving nothing out. _He_ wasn't afraid of what people would think. _He_ didn't care about his friends more than he cared about Harry.

When he finished, Andromeda paused momentarily. Then, "You certainly go for the whole show, don't you. Though, I suppose it's only to be expected, considering your companion."

Draco snorted and didn't answer. She was right. Harry definitely went for the dramatic, and he tended to get everyone around him doing it too.

She shifted her weight slightly, clearly anticipating a long conversation. "So why exactly did you come to me?"

"My father won't look here," Draco told her bluntly. "And we needed a place to hide."

"So you came to me and endangered my family." She sounded like she was getting angry. Draco didn't care. She would let them stay; she had to. Then enemy of my enemy is my friend, after all.

"Yes."

"Even though you know how hard I've worked to distance myself from all… this."

"Yes."

"And you have no excuses? No peace offerings? No payment?"

"No."

She stared at him for a long moment, weighting him with her gaze. He didn't move as she judged him, fully aware that her verdict would make this or break it. They couldn't afford any mistakes. He had to pass. Finally, she met his eyes with her own, and he saw the mirth building. Moments later, she burst into gales of laughter. Harry looked up wildly, his eyes hardening as he took in the scene.

Andromeda didn't seem to see him. "Oh that is just _brilliant_! Do you have _any_ idea of the risks you took getting here? Not to mention the ones that you took just by escaping my brother-in-law?"

Draco scowled. "Please explain yourself," he said coldly, his words clipped and under iron control. He saw nothing funny in the situation, and he suddenly wondered about his aunt's sanity. There were rumors, of course, but he'd dismissed them as family prejudice. Now, though, he couldn't help but wonder…

Her penetrating gaze was still amused, as though she knew exactly what he was thinking. "No, you don't, do you? I'm surprised at you. I would have thought _you_, at least, would have more sense than that." She nodded at Draco, whose scowl deepened.

"That's not what I asked," Draco snapped, his voice icy. He was fighting a losing battle for control, and, unless he got some answers _very_ soon, they were all going to regret it. "I _asked_ you to explain yourself."

Andromeda's eyebrows rose. "You got that from my sister," she remarked idly.

Draco's teeth clenched, and she laughed again. Draco balled his hands into fists as he began planning what he would do to her if she didn't stop antagonizing him _now_. He might be far younger than her, but he knew a trick or two of his own, ones she probably didn't realize she knew.

Thankfully she sobered quickly and looked at the two of them. "You want answers?"

Draco nodded tightly.

"Answer you won't like?"

Draco's smile was crooked and humorless. He felt himself relax slightly now what he wanted seemed to within his grasp. "Are there any other kind?"

She laughed again. "Perhaps not. Come with me." She swept out of the kitchen, Draco and Harry trailing her like well trained puppies. Draco hardly noticed; his mind whirled with frantic plans, trying to calculate how long then could safely stay here before moving on. He did not doubt that they would eventually be forced to leave; his father and Voldemort were far too thorough to ignore Andromeda for very much longer.

So busy was he with his thoughts that he didn't notice Harry's rapidly fraying hold on his temper. Only when Andromeda paused did he resurface from his mind, blinking slightly. "You should see to your Gryffindor," Andromeda advised. "He's getting antsy."

Draco shot a glower at Harry, his eyes hard. Why couldn't Harry just behave himself? Draco had accepted to treat with the Weasleys; why couldn't Harry return the favor? "He's not _my_ Gryffindor, and he's quite capable of looking after himself."

The moment the words left his lips, he knew they'd been the wrong ones to say. It wasn't really what he'd meant. What he'd meant to say was more along the lines of, 'My Gryffindor should know better than to misbehave in public." That would have satisfied them both. But no, he'd had to speak without thinking, and now Harry was staring at him with wide, wounded eyes. Draco had to look away; he couldn't bear the naked agony in those emerald eyes.

Andromeda's eyebrows were raised as she looked from Harry to Draco. She shook her head. "You two are dealing with this one on your own," she informed them. "But please refrain from cursing each other in my house. You can go into the backyard if you wish – it's muggle-proof and concealed from the Ministry – but if you destroy any of my furniture, I _will_ turn you out onto the streets. God strike me down if I lie."

"That won't be necessary," Draco said stiffly. "We won't be requiring room to duel." At least, he hoped they wouldn't. Surely all this was just a misunderstanding, right? It could be solved with a frank conversation and a few days apart, couldn't it?

"You say that now," she muttered dryly. "But, who am I to understand young love? You two will have to settle this by yourselves."

"We will," Draco informed her, irritated by her meddling. It was absolutely none of her business what their personal life was like. "We never asked you for advice. As I recall, you were going to tell us why we're stupid for coming here."

"So I was," she agreed. "Well, come on then." She started walking again, and the two started following, carefully not looking at each other. Draco wondered what exactly they would say to each other when they finally got around to talking. Most likely it would not be pretty. He grimaced, not looking forward to it.

Andromeda led them into a well furnished sitting room. They took armchairs at opposite ends of the room, not looking at each other. She pretended not to notice. Instead, she seated herself on the emerald-colored sofa in the center.

"If I've got the story right, you two escaped from my sister's house in the dead of night and have been running ever since, yes?"

Draco nodded.

"And my brother-in-law doesn't seem to have found you yet?"

Shake.

"And from that, you assume that he won't ever find you?"

"We assume that he's still looking."

She shook her head. "You assume wrong. He knows."

Harry's eyes flew wide open and he fixed her with a death glare. She met his gaze squarely, not intimidated in the least. "And he doesn't know from me, I assure you. Slytherin I might be; Death Eater I am not. Don't forget, it was _my_ cousin that they killed two years ago. If I ever had any sympathies in that direction, they vanished when he did."

Harry accepted this without a word, and an awkward silence fell across the room.

"Go on," Draco urged after a moment.

"As I was saying, he learned you were bound here. I can only assume he was eavesdropping; it seems like his style." Draco's lips twisted into a bitter smile. Oh yes, that was definitely his father's style. "He will arrive here shortly, almost certainly with his master alongside him. Once again, I would ask that you do any fighting outside of my house."

Harry stared at her in shock "Aren't there more important things to be worrying about?" he demanded sharply.

She didn't look at him. "Perhaps. But my house will be here long after the Dark Lord is gone, and the bills for repairing it won't go away. My mother wrote me out of the Black family fortune when she wrote me out of her will, you know."

Harry ignored this. "It's _still_ not important," he insisted.

"On the contrary, it's extremely important. But you won't understand, not until you grow older and have a home of your own. Then you'll realize." She turned her head back towards Draco. "Do you have a plan?"

Draco shook his head, gathering the strains of his vague plans back from where they'd scattered. He was disappointed to realize how insubstantial they really were. "Not as such, no."

"Are your next words going to be a plea for help?"

"Of course not!" Surely she knew that! She'd been born a Black, after all.

"Oh?" Maybe being married to a mudblood had done strange things to her head.

"Well… not a plea, as such. You should know better than that."

"So I do." Or maybe she'd just forgotten. "Well, whether you phrase it as a plea or not, my answer remains the same: no. You will do your own fighting."

"So why did you even bother helping us?" Harry demanded bitterly, not looking at either of them. "All you're doing is prophesizing doom and gloom and then refusing to help us."

"May I remind you that it was _you_ who appeared in my kitchen, not the other way around?"

"That doesn't change anything. There isn't any middle ground anymore. You're either with us, or you're a Death Eater. That's all there is to it."

She shrugged. "Have it as you will. My answer remains unchanged."

Draco stood. "Well, then we won't impose on you any longer." He turned to leave the room, going back towards the kitchen. They would make a plan there, and then he and Harry would talk. They couldn't put it off any longer.

* * *

_Author's note 2: okay, so here's our real author's note, just like we promised.  
we left it 'till the end so that you could read this chapter before we talk about it. see, it directly relates to the next chapter, but you all needed to read the above chapter first.  
anyway, the point of all of this is that they have to have a fight next chapter, and we're not in the mood to write one right now. we'd have to be pissed, not depressed. so it may be a couple days. but don't worry, it will be written in the next few days: we have ten days to write six chapters, so that's basically one a day. -grins- wish us luck!  
--kyra_


	15. Bitter Words

_Author's note: sorry for the delay in posting this. it was written days ago, but we forgot to post. -oops- anyway, we're not quite sure about this: we weren't angry when we wrote it, so the anger is just feigned. besides, since we've never been in love, we've never had a chance to have a conversation like this one. please let us know if we did it right!  
and, just to remind you all, we are hopeless romantics and demand that our stories have happy endings. please keep this in mind as you read the next few chapters!  
Disclaimer: if harry is phoebus and draco is esmerelda, does that make ron quasimodo? -grins- but we still don't own anything. (and we just recently saw the hunchback of notre dame again, so we're slightly obsessed right now... that's a very, _very_ good movie! go watch it if you haven't seen it! and then read the book.)  
--kyra

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Bitter words

Andromeda, for reasons of her own, insisted that they stay with her until the final attack. Harry wasn't quite sure how to reconcile this with her warnings against destroying her home, but he tried not to worry about it. She was giving them a place to stay. That was all that was really important.

Harry and Draco continued to avoid each other, though Harry still wasn't quite sure why. He could only suppose that Draco was once more dealing with his own feelings about his father, and that made him touchy. He tried to be understanding, but Draco's self pity was getting on his nerves. **(And here we must intervene, something we promise never, ever to do again, to point out that Harry is in no position to be annoyed at Draco for wallowing in self-pity. See book 5… --Caroline) **Couldn't the blond just own up to his own fear and defend himself?

Apparently he couldn't. Matters came to a head two days after their confrontation with Andromeda, and Harry realized then just how wrong he'd been about Draco. It wasn't his father that Draco was mad at: it was Harry.

"Me?" Harry demanded, appalled at the very thought. "What have I done?"

Draco scowled, hands on his hips. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe dragged me to a place I hate, to treat with people who hate me, without so much as _asking my opinion_ about it?"

Harry stared at him, horror mingling with anger. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he snapped.

"Have you gone completely soft in the head?" Draco hissed. "Or are you an amnesiac on the side?"

Harry growled softly. "Don't do this, Draco," he spat. "Don't play this kind of game with me. Say what you want to say straight out. I don't do guessing games."

"I had thought it was fairly clear," Draco pointed out acidly.

"I don't speak Slytherin," Harry reminded him.

"No, you're a pure, perfect _Gryffindor_!" The word flew out of Draco's mouth like a curse. "Of course the Golden Boy wouldn't speak Slytherin."

"So translate! Don't stand there gloating."

"I have every right to gloat. _I_, unlike you, seem to be bilingual."

Harry took a step forward, his hand going for his wand. Draco's was out and pointed before he got halfway. "Watch it, Potter," he sneered. "I know more curses than you, and I can perform them faster than you could _ever_ hope to."

Harry drew his wand anyway. "Are you saying that you're better than I am?" he demanded.

"Yes, I am!"

"Prove it!"

Draco glanced around the room, then shrugged. "If you want to. But my aunt wouldn't like your destroying her spare bedroom."

"Fuck the bedroom."

"Your funeral."

Harry opened his mouth to shout a spell anyway, then closed it. Despite himself, he was slightly apprehensive as to what Andromeda would do to them if she found out they'd destroyed her house. She seemed like the kind of witch who knew _exactly_ what she was doing and who was good at all of it.

He took a deep breath. "Fine. But, in Gryffindor, explain to me why you feel you need to shout at me."

Draco's eyes hardened, but his voice was reduced to a venomous monotone. "Fine. You. Made. Me. Go. To. Weasel's. House. And. Treat. With. His. Clone. Brothers. Without. Even. Asking. My. _Opinion_! Is that plain enough for you?"

"Oh, so you're furious because I didn't _ask your opinion_?! I expected you to speak up if you objected! You don't usually have trouble speaking up. Just the opposite, in fact!"

"Oh I don't?" Draco snorted in derision. "Shows how well you know _me_, doesn't it?"

"I _thought_ I knew you," Harry spat back. "Apparently I was wrong."

"Yes, apparently you were! And so was I! I thought you had some decency left in you, something that hasn't been stolen by your so-called friends and by your so-called protectors."

"Leave my friends out of this!" Harry roared. "This isn't about them! This is about you and me."

"Are you afraid of what they'll think?" Draco taunted. "Do you think they'll turn their backs on you if you admit to them who you really are?"

"They know damn well who I am. It's you who seems to have a false opinion of my character."

"So it would appear." Draco grimaced. "Apparently my mother was more right than not when she told me you would break my heart."

"I'm not breaking anyone's heart," Harry growled. "You're breaking your own. You deserve whatever's coming to you. You know that, don't you? You deserve every bit of it!"

Draco's breath caught, and the fury in his eyes cranked up to a whole new level. "You fucking _bastard_!" he shrieked, his control finally slipping. "You have _no __**idea**_ of what you're talking about! You have _no _clue what it's like to be me! I thought you could learn, but no. You're stuck in Gryffindor-land with your fairytales and your heroes. Heroes," he spat contemptuously. "You know _nothing_ about true heroism! The heroes don't come from the light side. It's easy to fight darkness if you're against it from the start. That doesn't take a hero; that takes someone with guts and a quick wand hand. What makes you a hero is if you switch sides."

"Oh, so you consider yourself a hero then, do you? Arrogant, much? Then again, I knew that about you already, so I don't see why I should be surprised."

"You'll never know, _Potter_, because you're too stubborn to see it for yourself. Or maybe you just can't wrap your mind around the concept that someone other than you can fight against darkness."

"I know I'm not alone!"

"Not you don't," Draco snapped cruelly back. "You're Saint Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, the hero of the wizarding world! And you think you're some kind of martyr who has to do everything on his own. And you know it! Don't try to tell me you don't know what I'm talking about, or you'll be a liar as well as an idiot."

"I'm not an idiot!" Harry shouted.

"Of course you are," Draco screamed back. "You're an idiot who thinks he knows everything in the world. I wonder what I ever saw in you."

"Believe me, I'm asking myself the same thing," Harry assured him coldly.

They looked at each other for a moment, both panting slightly, their fists curled around their wands.

"Then it's over," Draco stated flatly.

"So it is," Harry agreed. A small part of him rebelled against this and began to scream, but it was a very small part, and he ignored it. "I'll be going, then."

"That would be a good idea, yes," Draco said. He turned away, his movements rigid. Harry too turned, hearing the door slam as Draco left the room.


	16. Broken dreams

_Author's note: written in IB psych class, which is a total waste of time. -growls- is it bad of me to feel a crushing need to fail an assignment? i should _not_ have a 100 percent in an IB class. -growls again-  
still, i suppose i should be talking about the chapter, not whining about my psyche class. unfortunately, i'm running out of things to say... just remember this: i promised you all a happy ending. i have 2 more scenes (making 4 more chapters) to get there.  
Disclaimer: let's see... i have a muse, an idea, and too many plot bunnies. do i have the copyright? no. -sigh-  
--kyra

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Broken Dreams

As it turned out, Draco had no chance to talk to Harry for several days. It was even starting to look like some kind of conspiracy: whenever he could find Harry, they weren't in a position to talk, and when Draco was ready, Harry was nowhere to be found. It was maddening.

Finally, Draco gave up and made his own opportunity. He was a Malfoy; they were good at that kind of thing. No more waiting. This was too important to put off any longer.

Harry sat in the room Andromeda had lent him, staring blankly out the window at something Draco couldn't see. Draco didn't try to figure out what he was looking at. He had other things to think about. He took a deep breath, rehearsing what he would say.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up, his eyes wary. "What is it?"

Draco met Harry's eyes steadily and began to explain his position, calmly and rationally, just the way he had planned.

At least, he had planned on doing it that way, but Harry interrupted him almost immediately. "Me? What have I done?"

Draco scowled, and suddenly snapped. He was through. He was through dulling down the truth so that Harry could cope. He didn't want to always be the calm one, the rational one. He wanted to be the one to blow up sometimes, wanted to be the one to scream and shout in temper and say things he didn't mean and wouldn't regret. So he did. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe dragged me to a place I hate, to treat with people who hate me, without so much as _asking my opinion_ about it?"

Harry was staring at him, mouth open and eyes wide. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Have you gone completely soft in the head?" Draco asked, appalled at Harry's continued obliviousness. Did he do it on purpose? "Or are you an amnesiac on the side?"

Harry growled, clearly imagining that he was the one in the right here. "Don't do this, Draco. Don't play this kind of game with me. Say what you want to say straight out. I don't do guessing games."

"I had thought it was fairly clear," Draco pointed out acidly.

"I don't speak Slytherin," Harry reminded him.

"No, you're a pure, perfect _Gryffindor_!" Draco accused, almost surprised at his own vehemence. "Of course the Golden Boy wouldn't speak Slytherin."

"So translate! Don't stand there gloating."

"I have every right to gloat. _I_, unlike you, seem to be bilingual."

Harry's hand went for his wand. Draco's own wand was in his hand before he realized it, instincts built up over years of residence at Malfoy Manor coming to his aid. "Watch it, Potter," he sneered. "I know more curses than you, and I can perform them faster than you could _ever_ hope to."

Harry drew his wand anyway. "Are you saying that you're better than I am?" he demanded.

"Yes, I am!"

"Prove it!"

Draco glanced around the room, then shrugged, taking it in in all of its spotless glory. "If you want to. But my aunt wouldn't like your destroying her spare bedroom."

"Fuck the bedroom."

"Your funeral."

Harry almost did it anyway, but then thought the better of it. He took a deep breath. "Fine. But, in Gryffindor, explain to me why you feel you need to shout at me."

Draco felt himself stiffen at Harry's tone. What had he been _thinking_, saddling himself with someone this thick?. "Fine. You. Made. Me. Go. To. Weasel's. House. And. Treat. With. His. Clone. Brothers. Without. Even. Asking. My. _Opinion_! Is that plain enough for you?"

Harry's eyes blazed. "Oh, so you're furious because I didn't _ask your opinion_?! I expected you to speak up if you objected! You don't usually have trouble speaking up. Just the opposite, in fact!"

"Oh I don't?" Draco snorted. Harry had no idea at all, did he? "Shows how well you know _me_, doesn't it?"

"I _thought_ I knew you," Harry spat back. "Apparently I was wrong."

"Yes, apparently you were! And so was I! I thought you had some decency left in you, something that hasn't been stolen by your so-called friends and by your so-called protectors."

"Leave my friends out of this!" Harry roared. "This isn't about them! This is about you and me."

"Are you afraid of what they'll think?" Draco taunted. He felt exhilarated, almost high. This was even better than being blissfully in love. Maybe he should indulge his emotions more often. "Do you think they'll turn their backs on you if you admit to them who you really are?"

"They know damn well who I am. It's you who seems to have a false opinion of my character."

"So it would appear." Draco grimaced as he spoke. "Apparently my mother was more right than not when she told me you would break my heart."

"I'm not breaking anyone's heart," Harry growled. "You're breaking your own. You deserve whatever's coming to you. You know that, don't you? You deserve every bit of it!"

Draco's breath caught at the accusation. How _dare_ Harry say something like that?! Harry knew _nothing_ about his life, knew nothing about _anything_! "You fucking _bastard_!" he shrieked. "You have _no __**idea**_ of what you're talking about! You have _no _clue what it's like to be me! I thought you could learn, but no. You're stuck in Gryffindor-land with your fairytales and your heroes. Heroes," he spat contemptuously. "You know _nothing_ about true heroism! The heroes don't come from the light side. It's easy to fight darkness if you're against it from the start. That doesn't take a hero; that takes someone with guts and a quick wand hand. What makes you a hero is if you switch sides."

"Oh, so you consider yourself a hero then, do you? Arrogant, much? Then again, I knew that about you already, so I don't see why I should be surprised."

"You'll never know, _Potter_, because you're too stubborn to see it for yourself. Or maybe you just can't wrap your mind around the concept that someone other than you can fight against darkness."

"I know I'm not alone!"

"Not you don't," Draco snapped back. "You're Saint Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, the hero of the wizarding world! And you think you're some kind of martyr who has to do everything on his own. And you know it! Don't try to tell me you don't know what I'm talking about, or you'll be a liar as well as an idiot."

"I'm not an idiot!" Harry shouted.

"Of course you are," Draco screamed. "You're an idiot who thinks he knows everything in the world. I wonder what I ever saw in you."

"Believe me, I'm asking myself the same thing," Harry assured him coldly, his eyes flat.

They looked at each other for a moment, their fists clenched, their eyes blazing. Draco suddenly realized that this was his last chance to stop this. He knew quite suddenly that, if he said nothing now, nothing ever be the same. He closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping slightly in defeat. "Then it's over."

"So it is," Harry agreed dully "I'll be going, then."

"That would be a good idea, yes," Draco said. He turned away and headed out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him.


	17. Dear God, no!

_Author's note: I did, actually write this chapter on time, but our computer was shot, and our school blocks . (Evil school!) So I couldn't post until now. But not to worry, I have all the missing chapters. You will be getting three, at least, tonight. Doesn't that make you feel loved?  
And remember people: happy endings. I like happy endings.  
Disclaimer: I bet JK Rowling never had this much homework! -grimaces-  
Tamara

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Dear God, no!

Andromeda, much to Harry's fury, refused to allow him to storm out of the house. She caught him on the way out, took one look at his face, and marched him back into the living room, where she insisted he sit down and face her.

"This will not go like this," she stated.

"Why not?" Harry growled, glaring at her.

"Well, one, because if you leave now, then you'll be caught by the Dark Lord and my brother-in-law unawares and unprepared on some street corner, which is just where they want you. Two, even if you are prepared, at this point you'll probably just let yourself die and I don't want that to happen."

Harry's eyes had been widening steadily as she spoke, but his voice was still hard. "I won't die. This is what I have to do. I'm not just going to throw it away."

"Won't you?" Her own voice was frank, emotionless yet ringing with a truth even Harry could hear. "I would have."

"I'm not you. And you have no idea what you're talking about. How do you know how I feel?"

This proved to be the wrong thing to say. She was up in an instant and towering over him, teeth bared and hands clenched. "I know, you idiot, because you're not the only one in this world who's desperately in love with someone."

"I'm not in love with anyone."

"Of course you are," she snapped back. "You're both just too stubborn to realize it." She shook her head in disgust. "What is it with boys that they never let themselves keep what they love? It's always the girls who end up keeping things together."

"How should I know that?" Harry demanded. "_I'm_ a boy."

"Yes, that I can tell."

Harry refused to answer. She sighed and retreated slightly. "No matter. I suppose you couldn't help that. Even so, you aren't leaving this house until this mess has been, if not cleaned up, then at least attacked and sterilized."

"You can't make me."

She raised her eyebrows. "Would you care to bet money on that?" she asked with such false sweetness that Harry thought he would be sick.

"Just leave me alone."

"I will, after you promise not to leave."

Harry glowered horrifically at her, but she remained implacable. "Fine! I won't leave. I'll sit here like a nice piece of bait and wait for Voldemort to come find me. And I won't be paying and of your insurance bills."

"No, you certainly won't. Because none of the fighting will take place in my house. You will do it outside so that no one can claim either of you cheated. You do want a fair fight, do you not?"

"Just go away," Harry muttered darkly.

"Just remember, you can't," she warned, then stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

She was right, of course. Had he left as he'd wanted to, he would have passed Voldemort's posse on the way and been completely unprepared. As it was, he wasn't much more prepared when they did come, but at least he was fairly sure of his footing. Given the circumstances, it was the best he could ask for.

Voldemort arrived with his minions, trailed by fringe members of the Order, all of whom had somehow gotten a hold of Voldemort's whereabouts and decided to help out. Harry barely noticed them; he was too busy studying Voldemort. This was it. Everything he'd worked for since he was eleven would be decided now. He took a deep breath and clenched his wand. Head held high with false confidence, he stepped through the front door.

The assembled multitude of Death Eaters quieted almost instantly and backed away a few paces, leaving Voldemort and Harry to look each other squarely in the face.

"You've been waiting for me, I see," Voldemort commented, waving an arm at Andromeda's house. "But you're alone. Where is your loyal follower?" He turned to one of the Death Eaters. "What a shame, Lucius. I am so sorry that you will not have the chance to grind your son into the dust."

Harry glowered at them both, trying desperately to keep his temper. "Draco's here," he told Lucius. "You can go find him, if you want. I won't cry for him, if that's what you're looking for."

"How quaint," Voldemort purred, his voice making Harry shiver with disgust. "A lover's spat. We wouldn't want to intrude, would we Lucius?"

Draco's father had no choice but to nod, something Harry could see he was not pleased about. Through his mask, he shot Harry a piercing glare, which Harry returned with a sneer. Voldemort turned away from Lucius and faced Harry once more.

"I'm sorry to have come at such an inconvenient time, but I really must insist on having a moment. Can you grant me that much, Harry?"

"Go to Hell," Harry spat. Voldemort sneered, and began to reply. The door opened before any words could leave his mouth, and the assembled multitude turned to look at the new arrival. Draco walked stiffly, not looking at Harry.

"Hello Draco," Lucius said coldly, leveling his wand at his son.

Draco ignored him, eyes fixed on Voldemort. He was paler than usual, and Harry could see that the hand clenching his wand was slick with sweat, but he seemed outwardly composed. Harry refused to feel guilty about his own part in driving Draco into this state – if the blond had been more rational, they would have been facing this together, not apart. It was Draco's own fault if he was feeling bad now.

"Your father spoke to you," Voldemort snapped at Draco.

"I have no father," Draco whispered, his voice tight. He refused to look away from Voldemort's snake-like features.

"And I have no sons, My Lord," Lucius agreed smoothly. "Any individual whose loyalty does not rest with us is an enemy."

"Silence," Voldemort ordered sharply. He didn't even look at Lucius. "I did not ask for your opinion." He met Draco's gaze, and the blond recoiled, though his eyes didn't waver. "What of it?" Voldemort asked quietly, his voice almost hypnotic. "Will you join us? They do not trust you. They treat you like the enemy, and then expect your favors. Oh yes, I know all about _Dumbledore_," he spat the name out. "I know how he refused to let you into his little hideout. How does that make you feel? You're angry, aren't you? You're furious, and you're hurt. I would never do that to you. I would welcome you, would allow you to use your talents in ways you can barely even dream of now."

Draco seemed enthralled. He started to open his mouth, then closed it again. Still, he had almost agreed, and Voldemort knew it. He redoubled his attack.

"Forget about them. They don't matter. They don't value your talents like I could. You know I'm right, Draco. Just trust me. I will make you feel needed. I will make you feel _loved_!"

Harry's breath caught as he looked at Draco, barely daring to wonder what the blond would choose. Would he stay, or would he give into temptation and leave. He had precious little incentive to leave now, Harry knew.

Draco too seemed to be having trouble deciding. The silence stretched on. Then, he took a deep breath and straightened, his eyes hardening. "I will _never_ join your side," he proclaimed fiercely. "Never!" He glanced, almost involuntarily, at Harry, as though seeking approval, and Harry smiled, almost involuntarily, back.

Voldemort's answering laugh was high and cruel. "You made the wrong choice," he proclaimed ominously. "And this is the price to pay for those who choose wrongly." He uttered a spell Harry did not know, and a jet of violet light streamed towards Draco, hitting him straight in the chest. Draco fell to the ground, his head flopping sickeningly as he did so. All noise faded in Harry's mind as he watched. Draco was dead. _Draco_ was dead. Draco was _dead_. And it was all Harry's fault.


	18. Resolution

_Author's note: this too was transcribed in psychology. unfortunately, we won't get to do that with the next alternate chapter, as we don't have psychology on fridays. -sighs- oh well. it shouldn't take us too long, and then we shall be done! yes, you heard us correctly: done. after this chapter, there will be one more scene, which means two more chapters. however, tamara, harry, and draco have ganged up on me and are demanding another story. i am trying to resist, but i don't know how long i can hold out. so, after the end of every rose, you may be getting a third story. not for a while, though: we're busy in november!  
Disclaimer: don't you know it by now?  
--kyra

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Resolution

Draco's eyes flickered between Andromeda and the door, wondering if he would soon be allowed to leave. He didn't need Andromeda's help, and, more importantly, he didn't want it. Yet she seemed determined to impose her advice upon him whether he wanted it or not.

"When will you come to your senses? He needs your help."

Draco scowled, refusing to meet Andromeda's gaze. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said stiffly.

"Of course you do," she snapped. "And stop that right now. I have no patience for either denial or self-pity, and you seem to have an infinite capacity for both. So I will thank you to stop closing your eyes to the truth and get on with explaining to me exactly what you think you're doing."

Draco's fists clenched. "I know very well what I'm doing," he ground out. "And I'll thank _you _to remember that both he and I are legal adults, and what we do in our spare time is no one's business but ours."

She scowled. "If you think I care in the slightest what you and he do in private, then you are sadly mistaken."

This contradicted everything she'd been saying, and he told her so.

Andromeda grimaced. "And you have the gall to call your Gryffindor thick." She shook her head. "Do you even notice the hypocrisy?"

Draco refused to answer. Had it been possible, he would have refused to listen at all. She was clearly delusional; he had better things he could be doing. But she refused to let him leave, and the sooner he answered her, the sooner he would be set free.

"Please get to the point."

Andromeda sighed. "Fine. You and your pet posterboy…"

"He's not…" Draco began, but she ignored him.

"…will need to work together if you want to win this battle."

"I fail to see how what he does is my problem."

"Hypocrisy," Andromeda repeated, her voice tinged with wry amusement. Draco scowled, resisting the urge to pull out his wand and curse her right then and there. He changed tactics.

"I would more of a hindrance than a help to him at this point."

She nodded her satisfaction. "Good. Finally, we're getting somewhere. Why do you say that?"

"Because he can't stand the sight of me anymore?"

"Are you sure?"

Draco had had enough. He growled and stood violently, shoving his chair out of the way. "Are you a psychiatrist in disguise, now?"

She laughed, which only enraged him further. "Oh no. I fully admit to being one. Sit down. We're not done."

"Yes," Draco gritted. "We are." He moved towards the door.

"Think about this," Andromeda urged as he opened it. "I'd rather no one but those on the other side die."

The only reply she received was the slamming of the door.

* * *

Voldemort arrived at Andromeda's house soon afterwards, though he took none of them by surprise. They'd all known it was only a matter of time. Draco watched him and his minions approach from the window, wondering momentarily why none of the muggles who lived on the street noticed anything out of the ordinary. Then he forgot about them and went back to watching the drama unfold below.

Harry stepped out to greet the assembled multitude, and, despite himself, Draco felt a twinge of fear for the boy he had once loved.

"You've been waiting for me, I see," Voldemort sneered, and his voice send shivers coursing down Draco's spine. Voldemort gestured at Andromeda's house. "But you're alone. Where is your loyal follower?" He glanced at one of the Death Eaters, one Draco had no trouble recognizing. "What a shame, Lucius. I am so sorry that you will not have the chance to grind your son into the dust."

Harry stood rigidly, his voice and posture tight. "Draco's here. You can go find him, if you want. I won't cry for him, if that's what you're looking for." Draco almost winced at that last, then remembered that he wasn't going to cry if Harry died either. It was better this way.

"How quaint," Voldemort purred. Draco shuddered violently at the tone of his voice, his nails biting into his palms. "A lover's spat. We wouldn't want to intrude, would we Lucius?"

Draco turned away from the window. His chest felt tight as he moved towards the door. He had no choice; he had to go out there and do this alone. This was his fight. Harry had to fight Voldemort; he had no time to deal with Draco's father as well.

He took no notice of Andromeda as he headed for the front door. He had no room in his mind for anything but what he was going to say to his father.

He stepped through the door, not looking at Harry.

"Hello Draco," his father said coldly, leveling his wand at Draco. Draco's hands clenched convulsively around his own wand as he fought against the urge to look down. He fixed his eyes on Voldemort instead, then regretted it. The creature – for it was indeed a creature, not a man – met his gaze with a sneer.

"Your father spoke to you."

"I have no father," Draco whispered. He was more frightened than he'd even been in his life, more even than when he faced his father, knowing that nothing good would come out of the encounter. He felt a sudden surge of admiration for Harry, who went through this every year and again in his dreams. How could he _stand_ it?

"And I have no sons, My Lord," Draco's fa… Lucius agreed smoothly. "Any individual whose loyalty does not rest with us is an enemy."

"Silence," Voldemort ordered sharply. "I did not ask for your opinion." Lucius fell silent, and Voldemort turned his full attention back to Draco. "What of it?" Voldemort asked quietly, his voice almost hypnotic. "Will you join us? They do not trust you. They treat you like the enemy, and then expect your favors. Oh yes, I know all about _Dumbledore_," he spat the name out. "I know how he refused to let you into his little hideout. How does that make you feel? You're angry, aren't you? You're furious, and you're hurt. I would never do that to you. I would welcome you, would allow you to use your talents in ways you can barely even dream of now."

Draco's whole body quivered as he listened. What Voldemort said made sense: none of the Harry's friends trusted him, none of them cared what he thought or did. He knew that. Why stay with people who didn't value him for who he was? Part of him ached just to agree with Voldemort, ached to take those two paces and join the other side. The words he'd screamed at Harry earlier flashed through his mind, 'What makes you a hero is if you switch sides.' If he switched back, what would that make him? A coward, that was what. But why worry about that? Being seen as a coward by his enemies was no insult.

"Forget about them. They don't matter. They don't value your talents like I could. You know I'm right, Draco. Just trust me. I will make you feel needed. I will make you feel _loved_!"

This was it. Draco had to make his decision. Go or stay? He bit his lip until it bled, knowing that what he said and did now would impact everything that followed. He glanced covertly at Harry, who was carefully looking away. The silence stretched on. And then, something in him made the decision for him. He took a deep breath. "I will _never_ join your side," he proclaimed fiercely. "Never!" He glanced, almost involuntarily, at Harry and Harry smiled, almost involuntarily, back.

Voldemort's answering laugh was high and cruel. "You made the wrong choice," he proclaimed ominously. "And this is the price to pay for those who choose wrongly." He leveled his wand at Draco and shouted a spell. A bolt of violet light hit Draco squarely in the chest, and he fell as the world around him went black.


	19. Twin cores

_Author's note: so we didn't get around to uploading this yesterday. we are dreadfully sorry. but we've almost made it! one more chapter, and then this story will be completed. of course, to do that, i've had to compromise with tamara and the boys and write another sequel. -growls- but it should be entertaining.  
anyway, hope you like this chapter. i think (and tamara agrees with me, for once!) that finding new and entertaining ways to kill voldemort is the hardest thing in harry potter fanfic. -growls- but we managed it, and i hope it's not unbearably cliché. and, even if it is, bear with us! we write romance fanfic, not nobel-prize winning novels. (though that would be brilliant if we could!)  
Disclaimer: we might not be JK Rowling, but we _did_ learn how to imput accents into firefox without switching the language to french. we're very proud of ourselves!  
--kyra

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Twin cores

It was all Harry's fault. He had killed Draco. If only he hadn't brought Draco here, if only he'd insisted that Draco go back into the house, if only he'd been strong enough to leap in front of that jet of light… if only. But he hadn't been. He had brought Draco, he hadn't made him leave, he hadn't leapt between Draco and the spell, and now Draco was dead. _Dead_! He had died thinking that Harry hated him, thinking that Harry never had loved him and never would, and that wasn't true! Harry suddenly realized, with icy clarity, that it wasn't true. He loved Draco. He couldn't go on without the blond. So he wouldn't. The knowledge came into his mind without his having to ask for it. He would not go on. He would die here and Andromeda would get to prove that she'd been right. But he had a job to do first. He bent over and grasped his wand, which he didn't realize until that moment he'd dropped, his fingers curling around the smooth wood. He looked straight at Voldemort, who was still laughing.

"You are going to die," Harry told him flatly. "You are going to die for what you did here today."

Voldemort stopped laughing, but his mouth was still twisted into a grotesque parody of a smile. "Are you going to stop me, Harry?" he jeered, gripping his own wand once again. "How are you going to do that? You haven't managed it yet, after all, and here I am, stronger than ever before, and there you are, half broken with grief. I thought you weren't going to cry over him."

"I'm not crying," Harry retorted. He felt weightless, as though he were floating high above the scene, operating his body on puppet strings. He felt nothing, not the wind blowing his hair, or the pain as his fingernails ripped into his palms.

Voldemort shrugged. "So what are you going to do?" he repeated, his voice cruel.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Then get on with it," Voldemort taunted. "Prove to the whole world that you're a hero, that you're the only one who can win. Or just accept the truth: you will never defeat me. I will reign here _forever_!" His voice rose as he spoke, and the last word flew from his mouth as a shriek, echoing through the street, growing louder and louder until it was worse than unbearable. Everyone, regardless of their side, was writhing in pain, hands over their ears. Only Harry and Voldemort stood still, Harry because he still floated in his haze of numbness, and Voldemort because… it didn't matter.

"I will." Harry raised his wand towards Voldemort. "Any last words?"

"Get on with it!" Voldemort repeated, his voice rising again.

Harry opened his mouth to shout the spell, but Voldemort beat him to it.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry's mouth screamed a spell back, completely independent from what his mind wanted him to do. "Imperio!"

The two spells collided, and Harry's arm was wrenched painfully back. He barely noticed. His entire being was concentrating on maintaining the connection. Voldemort's eyes met his, and Harry read something almost like fear. He smiled coldly.

"Do you have anything to say?"

Voldemort looked wildly at him, unnerved by his lack of emotion. "What have you done?" he shrieked.

"Don't you remember what happened last time?" Harry demanded. "Twin cores. One wand cannot harm another."

"What are you playing at?" Voldemort wanted to know. The sparks of golden light were beginning to come out of the wands again as figure after figure erupted from Voldemort's wand. They crossed to join Harry, arms crossed and faces stern. Harry didn't know any of them, and he didn't try to pick out faces he'd seen in the paper: he had to concentrate too hard to keep from being blown apart by the power he was trying to control.

He had no idea how long it lasted. The figured continued to stream out, and Voldemort's expression grew more and more terrified. He began to jerk his arm about, trying to break the connection. Harry kept up with him, keeping it intact. He didn't know what he wanted to do, but he knew it was vital the connection not be broken.

Finally, the figure he'd been waiting for emerged, his long hair obscuring his face for a moment. Then, he raised his eyes and looked straight at Harry.

"Sirius!"

Sirius moved over to Harry's side. "Harry, how long can you keep this up?"

"As long as I have to."

"Are you sure?"

Harry nodded.

"Good. Wait until your parents come through. Then we can finish this once and for all."

Harry nodded again, and Sirius moved slightly, standing next to him, one ghostlike hand resting on Harry's shoulder.

Another eternity passed, and then, slowly, the two figures they'd been waiting for appeared. Lilly and James Potter moved confidently to join Harry and Sirius, their faces grave yet proud. Lilly smiled warmly at Harry.

"Only a few moments longer," she promised. She looked at James and Sirius, both of whom nodded. She turned her attention back to Harry. "You have to force his spell back," she explained.

"How?"

"We'll help you. Just concentrate."

Harry did so. He hadn't thought he could concentrate harder than he had been, but suddenly he could. He screwed his eyes closed as Lilly and James joined Sirius. All three of them put their hands on Harry's shoulders, and suddenly Harry felt a new surge of confidence. He took a step forward, nudging his line of light closer to Voldemort. Slowly, too slowly, in began to gain ground.

"Stop!" Voldemort screamed, realizing at last what was happening.

Harry ignored him and took another step forward. His spell gained more ground, and then more. Soon, only a green dot was left of Voldemort's spell, and then none. Eyes wide with horror, Voldemort watched as the Imperius curse hit him square in the chest. His head slumped forwards and his eyes dulled. Harry looked at him in disgust.

"Just die, already," he snapped. In front of everyone, Voldemort raised his wand, pointed it at himself, and spoke the spell that had ended so many lives already. The tell-tale flash of green light appeared once, then vanished as Voldemort's form slumped to the ground. For a few beats, there was dead silence. And then noise exploded once more as the Death Eaters tried to escape. Frightened and leaderless, the scattered, running right into the members of the Order who had gathered during Harry's confrontation with Voldemort. Harry ignored them all. He dropped to his knees, his eyes dropping back to Draco's inert form.

Harry reached out and hesitantly touched Draco's hand. It was icy cold. He wasn't breathing. Harry felt tears begin to form in his eyes as he numbly reached once more for his wand. This was it. Everything was over. He wasn't needed anymore. He could die now. He would be a martyr, a legend. It was better this way.

Suddenly, the body under his fingers twitched. Harry's eyes widened in disbelief as Draco's eyes opened. He blinked once, then twice, then grimaced. "Don't you dare."

"Draco?" Harry breathed.

"Who do you think?" Draco demanded.

"It is you!"

"Yes Harry. It is me. Now, will you put the wand away? I'd rather not this be too much like Romeo and Juliet here."

Harry blinked, distracted. "How do you know about Muggle plays?"

"You'd be amazed, the things I know. Can I sit up now?"

Harry realized that he'd been pinning Draco down to the pavement. He removed his hands slowly, and Draco sat up. They looked at each other for a long moment, and then Harry was in Draco's arms, the tears he'd been repressing all day coming at last.

Draco held him tightly, not saying anything. Finally, Harry took a deep breath, and then slapped Draco hard across the face.

Draco gaped at him, pain filling his eyes. "What was that for?" he sputtered.

"Never, _ever_ do that to me again!" Harry roared.

"What, die? I'll try."

Harry started laughing through his tears. Draco eyed him oddly for a moment, then shook his head. "What will I do with you?" he asked, bringing his arms around Harry's form.

"I don't know," Harry managed.

Draco laughed. "Neither do I." He grinned. "But we're going to have fun finding out."


	20. Peace

_author's note: we're sorry this chapter is late: november 1st crept up on us, and we didn't have time to finish this. but now we have. so enjoy this chapter, and we'll talk to you more at the end!  
disclaimer: jk rowling didn't just take a month off to do nano, but we did. we feel accomplished now. -grins-  
--kyra

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_

Peace

Draco drifted through a mist of grayness, his insubstantial body passing through any obstacles there might have been. He did not look for them. He did not look for anything. He was doomed to drift through this mist for eternity, that he knew. It was the price he had to pay. But for what? He could not remember. He knew there must have been something, but he could not think what it might be.

His body bumped into something, and he frowned. He was insubstantial. He should not have been hindered by anything. He tried to get his eyes to focus on the obstacle, but they refused. He saw nothing, only grayness. But there was something there. Something that was baring his path. He reached out to see if there was any way around it, but his hand met only a hard, invisible wall. Or was it a wall? He did not know. He knew nothing about this place, just that it was there, and that he was meant to stay until the end of time.

"Turn around."

Without thinking, he obeyed the voice.

"You won't be able to see me."

His mind began to work, sluggishly at first, but at last back to the speed he was used to. The voice was female, he realized, and that of a child. "Who are you?"

There was a peal of laughter. "It does not matter," she said merrily. "I am here, and you are here, and that is all that matters."

Draco frowned. "What do you mean?" he wanted to know.

After what sounded suspiciously like a sigh, the voice said, "My name is unimportant. Just know that I'm here to guide you and all others who pass through this place."

"Where am I?"

She laughed again. "That's a very good question," she said. "Truth to tell, it doesn't have a name either. You can call it limbo, if you want."

Draco frowned. "Limbo?"

"Limbo," she affirmed. "But, since you won't be staying here, that's unimportant as well."

"What do you mean, I won't be staying?"

She laughed. "Did you really give up the fight that easily?" she asked. "I thought you were tougher than that, Draco."

"How did you know my name?"

"I know everything about you. And I know that, unless you listen to me, your lover is going to do something incredibly… stupid."

Draco frowned. His lover. His brain had not gotten that far yet. Who was she talking about? "My…" he began, and then stopped. There was a face there, one that he recognized. A face topped with messy black hair. That wasn't enough. A name. He needed a _name_! "Who are you?" he whispered to the vision in his mind. "What's your name?"

The girl laughed again. "His name is Harry," she reminded Draco. "Harry Potter. Savior of your world. And currently half mad with grief."

Harry. _Harry!_ "I have to get back to him!" Draco gasped. He steppe forward, trying to identify the source of the voice.

"I told you, you won't be able to see him," she reminded him patiently.

"How can I get out of here?" he demanded harshly. "I need to leave!"

"Of course you do," she agreed. "That's what I've been telling you. Glad to see you've finally used that mind of yours for something other than asking stupid questions."

Draco ignored the barb. "How do I do it?" he insisted again. His hands reached out, trying to grasp what was not there and shake it until she told him the answer.

She laughed yet again. "Follow your heart, Draco," she informed him. "It will lead you to him. But figure it out fast. He's almost finished."

"Finished with what?" Draco wanted to know, but she did not answer. He looked around wildly. "Where are you?"

Still no answer. She seemed to have disappeared. If she had ever even been there at all. Draco toyed with the idea that he was losing his mind, then sighed. It did not matter. He could very well have lost his mind, but it still did not matter. What mattered was that he had to find a way to get out of here. A way to get back to Harry.

Harry! Suddenly he remembered the voice's parting words. Almost finished. Almost finished with what? And then he remembered something else she had said._ And I know that, unless you listen to me, your lover is going to do something incredibly… stupid_. Stupid. Just what would the spirit of limbo think was stupid?

He broke into a sprint, searching desperately for a way out. Of course that was it. That was the only thing it could be.

He ran on and on and on, unable to find a way out, or even any change in the grayness. No more obstacles stopped him, not more voices spoke to him. It was just him and the grayness. Finally, exhausted and hopeless, he stopped. It was useless; he would never find a way out. She had been toying with him, had been playing on his emotions to torture him. He should never have allowed himself to hope for more. He sank to his knees, not even caring that he was drifting through nothingness once more, and buried his face in his hands. This was it, then. This was what the rest of time would consist of: voices talking to him and getting his hopes up, and then dashing them cruelly.

He called Harry's face to mind, trying not to cry. Then he frowned. Why not cry? No one would see him, and there was nothing left to prove. So he cried.

He opened his eyes at last, then frowned. The grayness was gone. The world was once more full of colors so bright that they hurt his eyes. He closed them again. There was pressure on his hand. How was that possible? Had the voice come back? He opened his eyes once more and looked directly into emerald green ones. They weren't looking at him. They were looking through him, or maybe past him, looking at something Draco couldn't see. Harry held his wand up, tip pointed back at him.

_And I know that, unless you listen to me, your lover is going to do something incredibly… stupid_. Apparently Draco had… had returned just in time. He grimaced. "Don't you dare." He refused to have fought this hard just for it all to go away again.

"Draco?" Harry breathed. He too did not seem to be able to believe it, and Draco was once more reminded of how much pain hope could cause.

"Who do you think?" Draco demanded.

"It is you!"

"Yes Harry. It is me. Now, will you put the wand away? I'd rather not this be too much like Romeo and Juliet here."

Harry blinked, distracted. "How do you know about Muggle plays?"

"You'd be amazed, the things I know. Can I sit up now?"

Harry blinked, then moved off slightly. Draco sat up, wincing at the stiffness of his body. How long had he been… away? He and Harry stared at each other for a long moment, and then Harry moved closer again. Draco instinctively wrapped his arms around the black haired boy as Harry began to cry.

At last, Harry took a deep breath. Then he pulled away slightly and delivered a stinging slap to Draco's cheek.

"What was that for?" he sputtered. Was this just another aspect of limbo, one meant to destroy him even more? Was this all a fabrication, one that would continue for eternity and beyond?

"Never, _ever_ do that to me again!" Harry roared. Draco relaxed slightly despite himself. He had to believe that this was real. He had to believe that Harry still wanted him. He _had _to! So he did what he did best. He twisted the hurtful words into something much, much more bearable.

"What, die? I'll try."

Harry started laughing, and Draco relaxed. It was real. It was all real. He was back. He knew it. No executioner in their right mind would consider this torture. "What will I do with you?" he asked, bringing his arms around Harry's form.

"I don't know," Harry managed.

Draco laughed. "Neither do I." He grinned. "But we're going to have fun finding out." He and Harry lapsed into silence once more as they helped each other up. As they stumbled back into Andromeda's house, Draco could have sworn he heard someone laughing. He frowned as the unknown girl child's voice faded, then sighed. He would never know. He did not want to know. He hoped he would never have to find out.

And then he forgot about her. He was back. He had no time to concentrate on the cares of the dead. He was alive, and he had Harry to look after. He smiled, knowing that everything would be better now. Not perfect, but better. And that was really all he could ask for.

_fin

* * *

author's note 2: so there you have it. the end of the story. what did you think? did you like it? did you loath it? (though if you did loath it, why have you gotten this far, may i ask? -grins-) let us know. we crave reviews, and it would be great if this story could have as many as its prequel. please?  
important note: does anyone want more? i.e. should we write another one, or is the saga finished here? we probably won't start a new one for a while if we do end up writing it, but we'd love your input. so click the review icon and let us know!  
yours in writing and in spirit,  
--_kyra_, Tamara, _**Caroline, **Marianne


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